Simon says
by nessie-b
Summary: Year 6. A fifth house is added at Hogwarts. During resorting Harry unintentionally ends up in Slytherin, where he meets former Ravenclaw Simon. A tale about prejudices, mistrust and friendship. More details inside. No Slash. HBP disregarded.
1. Summer Holidays

**Detailed Summary:**

In Harry's sixth year a fifth house is added at Hogwarts. During re-sorting, recent events cause Harry to reconsider – and he unintentionally ends up in Slytherin, where he meets Simon, a former Ravenclaw.  
When a new prophecy surfaces, old bonds of friendship will be challenged. Harry has to deal with the question of friend or foe, faith or fool, while living in times of mistrust, betrayal, and death. **(No Slash)**

**Warnings: AU / Character Death / mention of torture / mild violence **

**  
_The PG-13 rating and warnings are for later chapters. A short note will be posted at the beginning of each one of them._**

* * *

**Disclaimer:**  
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The text below is the translation of Altron's piece "_Harry Potter und das Haus des Phoenix_".

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**Chapter 1 – Summer Holidays****- **_**Summary:** Harry feels left out and inherits a house._

After his return to Privet Drive for the summer holidays, Harry noticed no changes whatsoever. Aunt Petunia tended to the house and garden as usual, leaving the kitchen and living room as spotless as if they were not in use at all. Only the room that Dudley occupied gave the impression that someone actually lived in that house. Harry's room, on the other hand, looked as if it had been turned into a junk room. Here, you could find Dudley's old furniture, the former and now broken bathroom mirror, and many boxes containing unknown things, all stacked up near the wall or scattered across the floor.

This summer's weather was dominated by cloudy skies and a great deal of rain. The sun hardly ever appeared, but when it did, it grew warm for a change. Harry used these opportunities to go swimming and take walks in a close-by park. Even though Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley treated him in an unusually friendly manner, he spent most of his time away from them, up in his room, terribly bored.

* * *

Time passed, and one Saturday in the middle of July, the weather promised to clear up for a whole, sunny day. No clouds could be detected at all. The Dursleys woke up early that morning to go shopping in London. Harry was allowed to stay at home on his own for a change. He even received a key, so that he could lock the door if he left the house.

As soon as he heard his relatives leave their home and the gravel protesting under a car pulling out of the driveway, Harry jumped out of bed and went down to the kitchen. Still in his pyjamas, he prepared his breakfast and started reading the morning paper his uncle had left behind. He flipped through it, but nothing unusual had happened.

A little disappointed he put the newspaper aside, and was just making his way to the bathroom when he noticed a soft knocking on the window. He discovered a small owl, which was trying to get his attention. Harry opened the window and the small bird flew onto the table and delivered a letter, obviously from Hogwarts, which it had been holding in his beak. Harry took the letter, fed some left-over crumbs to the owl and let it take off again.

Harry sat down, looking intensely at the letter. It was from Professor McGonagall, his Head of House at Hogwarts. What could she possibly want? As soon as he opened the letter, he remembered: it contained the results of his O.W.L.s. He hadn't expected them to come so early. Cautiously, he unfolded the parchment.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_I am informing you that you have passed your O.W.L.-examinations._

_Regarding your choice of profession, I would like you to note that it is possible to apply for a re-examination in the subject of Potions to improve your result(s). The form must be sent to the appropriate teacher no later then September sixth. All re-examinations will take place in November._

_An application form with your desired subjects for next term must be submitted by the end of this month._

_Have a nice remainder of your holiday.  
Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

_Enclosed:  
O.W.L Certificate  
Application form Schedule  
Application form Re-examination_

Harry re-read the letter twice, and then turned to the next page. The form regarding his subjects in his sixth year stated that he could choose up to five subjects to sit N.E.W.T.s in at the end of his seventh year at Hogwarts. Finally, he turned to his certificate.

_CERTIFICATE – O.W.L._

_Mr. Harry James Potter_

_Achieved the following results at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Charms  
Theory: Exceeds Expectations  
Praxis: Exceeds Expectations_

_Transfiguration  
Theory: Exceeds Expectations  
Praxis: Exceeds Expectations_

_Herbology  
Theory: Exceeds Expectations  
Praxis: Exceeds Expectations_

_Defence against the Dark Arts  
Theory: Outstanding  
Praxis: Outstanding_

_Potions  
Theory: Acceptable  
Praxis: Acceptable_

_Astronomy  
Theory: Exceeds Expectations  
Praxis: Poor_

_History of Magic  
Theory: Poor_

_Care of Magical Creatures  
Theory: Exceeds Expectations  
Praxis: Outstanding_

_Divination  
Praxis: Poor_

_The Committee acknowledges six O.W.L.(s) to Mister Harry Potter._

Harry was surprised that he had passed his exams with such good results. Only those in Potions didn't suit him at all. He needed one part of the examination to be graded with "outstanding" to make it into the N.E.W.T.-class. To apply for a re-examination was a ridiculous idea. He would never do much better, and the chances that Snape would make an exception – no, there was no point even thinking about it. He simply would have to choose another career, one that didn't require Potions. But he would think about that later. Harry pocketed the letter and went upstairs to get dressed.

As the sun was particularly warm today, Harry packed his bag to go for a swim. But just as he was about to leave the house, the phone rang. Harry never ever answered the phone. Usually, it would be Dudley's friends calling, business partners of Mr. Dursley, or a neighbour, exchanging the latest rumours with Aunt Petunia. Harry stopped and waited; surely it would stop ringing! But the longer the phone rang, the more curious he became. There was only one person, who could be calling _him_...He closed the front door and slowly approached the phone. He picked up the receiver.

"Yes, hello?" he asked shyly.

"Harry, is that you?" It was Hermione.

"Hermione! So great to hear from you! How come you're calling me?"

"I received my results today, and was wondering if you'd gotten yours, too?"

"This morning," Harry answered. Typical Hermione, school's always first.

"So…" Hermione seemed nervous. "Did you pass Potions?"

"Well, McGonagall recommended sitting the re-examination. Both parts are Acceptable."

"Oh." Hermione sounded disappointed. "Didn't you say you were confident that the result wouldn't be too bad?"

"Depends on how you define 'not bad', but do I have to remind you of the way Snape usually treats me?"

A short silence followed - then Hermione burst out, "Well, I got an O for almost all subjects, except Arithmancy, but I knew I had made a mistake, anyway, I still received an E …"

"Erm, Hermione?" Harry interrupted her.

"What?"

"Did you just call me to tell me how well you've done?" His mood changed rapidly from cheerful to bad, "I BET YOU ARE TOP OF THE YEAR, RIGHT?"

With Hermione's certificate he would have no trouble getting into Auror-Training. But with his own – no way….

"Harry, what's up?" Hermione sounded worried.

"Ah, nothing." Harry replied a little too fast. He was annoyed with himself. Why was it that he was so sensitive lately?

"So…" Hermione interrupted his thoughts, "I was wondering if you would like to meet us in Diagon Alley for your birthday. We could also get our school equipment. The Weasleys would be very happy if you could come along. We could pick you up in the morning and take you back at night."

"Why can't I come to the Burrow?"

"No idea, that's how Dumbledore wants it."

"WHAT'S DUMBLEDORE GOT TO DO WITH THIS?"

"I don't know. I'm just telling you what Mrs. Weasley told me." Hermione tried to calm him down.

"You are at the Burrow, RIGHT NOW? AND I AM STUCK HERE, SETTING A RECORD IN BEING BORED?"

"Yes, I'm in a phone box right now, but that's no reason to yell at me like that. Would you rather talk to Ron?"

"No, THANK YOU!" Harry replied annoyed, "I AM GOING SWIMMING!" He threw the receiver back onto the phone, grabbed his bag and left the house.

Later, while he was swimming his laps in the pool, Harry regretted his rudeness. He had no idea why he had acted like that. All he had wanted was to meet up with his friends. Maybe he was simply disappointed that it should only happen on this one day. Probably because he was angry that he was stuck at Privet Drive while Hermione and Ron could be together. But Harry was aware of another, more serious reason: guilty feelings, self-doubt and fear had been growing inside him ever since that fateful day. And while thinking about it, the tormenting thoughts caught up with him once more, as they had on all those other days and nights.

He thought about the final three weeks of his last school-term. So many things had happened. Sirius was dead. The guilty feelings that came to the surface, when he thought about the events at the Ministry rushed through him once more … he had easily jeopardized his friends' lives. All of them could have died. The Prophecy that Dumbledore had revealed to him shortly afterwards, didn't help much either. He wished he had never heard it at all. It made everything worse. He, the _Chosen One_ was being forced to act. Harry couldn't imagine how he would be able to kill Lord Voldemort. He was so powerful. Sure, there was _Avada Kedavra_, an Unforgivable. The only time he had ever used one, hadn't quite turned out the way he had intended to. It took more than just speaking out the words and some amateur wand-waving.

So far, he had not told Ron or Hermione about the prophecy. This was something between him and Lord Voldemort. He imagined how they would react: Hermione would probably be horrified and urge him to learn and study even harder for school, which was not unwise. Ron, on the other hand, would take his time to understand the meaning until he would reach the state of being horrified, and maybe even scared. But then: that was the natural reaction, wasn't it?

He, Harry, was the one who had to risk his life, not them. But the more his friends would find out, the more they would try to support him, and possibly get themselves into another dangerous situation. No, he would not ease the weight of this burden by telling them about it.

He climbed out of the pool. He sensed he should apologize to Hermione. After all, it wasn't her fault that Dumbledore, and surely half the Order, thought it better and safer for him to stay with the Dursleys. After towelling and dressing, Harry went straight back to Privet Drive and started a letter to Hermione and Ron.

_Hello Hermione, Hi Ron,  
I'm sorry that I got so angry. At the moment, I'm very unbalanced and… _

Harry tore the paper apart. It sounded stupid. "No," he thought, "I don't have to explain myself to them."

_Hello Hermione and Ron, Sorry that I got so angry. I would be happy to go to Diagon Alley with you. I could use a change of scenery. Harry._

Yep, that sounded better. He rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. He followed her flight, until he couldn't see her shape any longer. Then he flopped onto his bed and read the letter from Hogwarts once again.

If he could somehow make it through another exam in Potions, he would still be able to follow his former plans of becoming an Auror. He only had to ask Hermione to tutor him. He had another look at the form for his N.E.W.T.-courses and chose those he needed to become an Auror as well: Defence against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms and Potions. His fifth subject became Herbology. He wasn't particularly good at this one, but it seemed more important to him than Care of Magical Creatures. Astronomy and History of Magic were still obligatory, but he was able to drop Divination. It didn't seem necessary or appropriate to continue.

After filling out the forms correctly, he pulled his Potions book out of his trunk. If he was going to sit the re-examination, he might as well do the whole thing properly, and start now. After skipping through the pages without being able to concentrate long enough on one herb to understand its functions, Harry gave up. He threw the book back into his trunk and left his room. He definitely would have to look for another job-opportunity.

* * *

Two days later Hedwig returned with good news. He would be going to Diagon Alley to meet his friends, spend one night in London and then return to Privet Drive. He sent Hedwig straight away to McGonagall to deliver his new schedule, although, the form for the re-sit stayed in Privet Drive for now.

Looking forward to the London trip, Harry found it a lot easier to endure the coming days. A quick note from Pig had told him that the Weasleys, Tonks and Moody would pick him up at seven a.m. Unfortunately, Lupin wouldn't be able to join them, due to his 'disease'.

Nevertheless, he still had these nightmares. It was always a bizarre version of his encounter with the Death Eaters at the Ministry. He was standing between two shelves, clasping the Prophecy in his hands; his friends close by, surrounded by a dozen hooded figures. The prophecies started to talk and confuse Harry and the others…they were running in circles. Constantly, he watched Bellatrix and Lucius, how they killed them one by one: first Ginny - Hermione – Neville - Luna - Ron - until only Harry was left, surrounded by Death Eater, who all possessed baby-sized heads, talking in an abnormal baby-language. Then Voldemort appeared, just having killed Sirius and intending to proceed to Harry next…. Every time Voldemort raised his wand, Harry woke up screaming. And every time, Harry thought consciously how lucky they all had been - except Sirius. It was his fault, no matter what Dumbledore had said.

* * *

On his birthday, he once again roused from one of his nightmares. It was only half past three, but he didn't dare to go back to sleep; instead he sat on the edge of his bed and stared out into the night sky. The full moon was bright and clear; only occasionally a cloud covered it for a few moments. He sat there for a long time, thinking, until he finally got up to dress. He sat back by the window. He had no idea what he was waiting for. Who else would be wandering around at five a.m.? Then he noticed the owl. It brought his booklist for the next school year. While skimming through it, he detected a book that didn't belong there: _Introduction to the Daily Life of Muggles by Martin Settler. _But hey, he wasn't taking Muggle Studies! Harry turned to the attached short letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,  
Enclosed you will find the book list for your next school year. Please note that all students will be required to take Muggle Studies this term. Further, there will be some restructuring at Hogwarts, but you will be given more information on this matter at the beginning of the term._

_Yours Sincerely,  
Prof. Minerva McGonagall; Deputy Headmistress_

So, all students would have to take it. Harry imagined Malfoy struggling with Muggle items and grinned mischievously: this year promised to be fun already.

At a few minutes to seven, someone rang the door. Harry hastened to open it. Moody greeted him with a friendly smile. Back in the driveway, Harry recognized a car with several people standing around it.

"Who's disturbing us this early in the morning?" Uncle Vernon yelled, swaggering out of the bedroom. As soon as he realized who had just wished him a "Good Morning", he became silent and eyed Moody nervously. Harry had not mentioned the trip to the Dursleys as of yet.

"Did Harry complain?" Uncle Vernon asked, uncertainty wavering in his voice.

"Should he have?" Moody grinned, obviously enjoying his chance to taunt the Muggle in front of him, "No, I'm just picking him up to buy his school things. He'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Ready, Potter?" Harry nodded and followed Moody to the car, where the Weasleys, Hermione and Tonks, who didn't sport her usual cheerful appearance, but was wearing dark-brown hair and suitable clothes, were waiting for them.

* * *

Diagon Alley appeared colourful and busy as usual. Harry bought his new books, some parchment rolls, and a new quill. While walking down the street, Hermione suddenly nudged him in the ribs. "Look, over there!" Harry followed her pointing finger and saw a small shop decorated in vivid colours. On a wooden sign he could make out the words _Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes_. He had forgotten that the twins were now running their own joke shop in Diagon Alley. Automatically, he turned and led the group into the tiny store.

"Hey, Fred, we've got rare visitors!" George called through the shop upon recognizing the new customers. Fred emerged from a room behind the counter and greeted them. Hermione looked around, a stunned expression on her face. Harry examined a glass containing several spiders, which changed their body size every once in a while. "Eh, like our scary spiders? They're very popular, especially with people who intend to play a trick on someone suffering from Arachnophobia," George explained sheepishly to Harry. "But be careful, don't put them into Ron's bed, he almost killed me when _I_ tried," he added in a whisper.

"Did you develop all these things by yourself?" Hermione intervened. "I mean it certainly requires a great deal of magical skills, and this looks like a rather complicated spell." She pointed at some sort of dragon, which was floating above them.

George nodded. "Yup. Come on, I'll show you something we've been working on."

She followed him into the room behind the counter. Harry kept looking around and noticed Moody, who was standing close by the window, gazing out onto the street. "We shouldn't stay too long in here," he whispered to Mrs. Weasley. She nodded and tried to usher the kids out of the shop. Harry looked out as well, but couldn't make out anything unusual or suspicious. But then he noticed Malfoy, who came down the street accompanied by a few fellow students. Malfoy didn't appear to be in good shape, and Harry knew too well why. Thanks to him, Draco's father was currently imprisoned in Azkaban. Fortunately, the group vanished around a corner, the moment Harry and the others stepped outside. After everyone had purchased the necessary school supplies and a relaxing Butterbeer in the Leaky Cauldron, the group marched back to the car.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked surprised. He had believed they would stay in the Leaky Cauldron.

"To the Headquarters…" Tonks replied, as if it was the most normal thing to do.

Harry's stomach cramped. They were still using Sirius' house?

_Sirius was dead… _

Yet, they drove to Grimmauld Place and entered the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry didn't like being back here. Everything reminded him of Sirius. Even the curtains covering the picture of Sirius' mother, the elves on the wall… Before, the house had been filled with life and laughter, and meetings still took place here, but now Harry somehow felt as if he shouldn't be here. He abandoned his bags near the entrance-door and entered the kitchen. It looked different, brighter, more friendly. The old, broken table had been replaced with a new one.

"Sirius had one wish: that you should inherit the house, should anything ever happen to him," Moody said with a soft voice. He poured Harry a glass of pumpkin juice.

"I don't want it," Harry replied immediately with a trembling voice.

"Well, you might find a use for it later. As long as you're not of age, it will be…"

"I DON'T WANT IT!" Harry jumped up and glared angrily at Moody, "DUMBLEDORE CAN OPEN HIS NEW OFFICE HERE, I DON'T CARE! SO LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry run out of the room, determined to leave the house, when someone held him back by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You can't just leave." Harry turned around, resolute to hit or yell some more, and looked directly into Lupin's sad eyes. He looked a lot worse than usual. His face was very pale, the dark shades under his eyes deeper than ever. A wound on his right cheek seemed to have healed, but only very recently. Harry was shocked about his desolate appearance and his anger immediately decreased.

"What happened to you?" he asked worried.

"Oh, that's nothing. I had a little quarrel last night with a few wizards. I wasn't able to take Wolfsbane so I ended up running around London - as a werewolf. I think they tried to catch me."

"But they weren't successful."

Lupin nodded. "True, but something a lot more dangerous could have happened."

Mrs. Weasley entered the room and joined them. "Harry, how about you go and check upstairs? Ron, Ginny and Hermione prepared a little surprise for your birthday." Harry, looking a tiny bit embarrassed, let Mrs. Weasley lead him upstairs. He entered the room he had slept in during his last holiday. On the floor, huge letters read _Happy Birthday, Harry, _while continuously changing their colour. All around, he could make out a few cards and packages. Harry first opened a card from Hagrid that sang songs when petted. But it never got one tone right, so he stopped pretty soon. Hagrid wrote that Grawp had made progress but Dumbledore nonetheless had asked him to move his brother.

"At least one person can make him see reason. If Umbridge had heard about Grawp…" Hermione started.

Ron had given him a huge box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and the twins had sent him a set of _Weasleys' Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs_. Lastly, he opened a package that must have been Hermione's. 'Another book ….' Harry thought annoyed. But when he read the title, his mood changed drastically, to anger: _Tricks and Tips for Quidditch-player, Version: Seeker._

"Hermione, you do remember that I've been given a life-long ban?" But Hermione grinned. "You're allowed to play next year. Dumbledore dismissed all educational degrees as well as your punishment!" Harry felt like jumping. He was allowed to play Quidditch again! Then he uncertainly glanced over to Ginny.

"It's okay," she said, "I was just a temporary substitute. Anyway, I think I'll try out for Chaser now, I'd like that better." Harry felt the best he had in ages.

The next day, Tonks and Lupin took him back to the Dursleys. He probably could have stayed longer in Grimmauld Place, it was the third-safest-hide-out after all, but the memories of Sirius were simply too much for him to cope with. Nevertheless, he would await the first day of school longingly.

_TBC_

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**Next**: A trip back, a first fight, and a separated trio.

**Please R&R!**


	2. The House of Phoenix

**Chapter 2 – The House of Phoenix**

**Summary:** A trip back, a first fight, and a separated trio.

* * *

_Thanks to Sophi, for her incredible beta-work._

* * *

_Als die Sonne den Tag verließ,  
die Augen fest geschlossen, die Seele verkrampft,  
die Erinnerung gefressen, die Zukunft voller Angst_  
(Lacrimosa)

* * *

Harry spent most of the remaining time until the beginning of the term in his room, staring out of the window. Nothing - absolutely nothing - was happening. The Muggle news reported no unusual events, so that Harry almost regretted the cancellation of his subscription to the Daily Prophet. Still, after all those lies, he hadn't really felt like reading it anymore. Two days before boarding the Hogwarts Express, he received a short note from Ron telling him that the Weasleys couldn't pick him up, so he should ask his relatives to drive him instead. Great. He threw the letter on his bed. The Dursleys might have been treating him quite friendly, but actual contact with his world would still be a problem.

At dinner, he addressed the matter straightforwardly. "Somebody will have to drive me to King's Cross the day after tomorrow."

His aunt, who had been lecturing them about some kind of boring new fertilizer, stopped talking rather abruptly and glared at him.

"Can't you tell I'm talking to your uncle? Wait for your turn!" And with that, she continued her monologue about _Gerald's Gardenhelp: Guaranteed Green Grass. _After about half an hour, Harry couldn't stand it any longer and stood up.

"What was it you wanted to say?" The voice of his aunt held him back.

Typical, no one had even listened to that single sentence he'd said. He felt like screaming, or maybe throwing something. Instead, Harry breathed deeply before he replied, "Somebody will have to take me to King's Cross the day after tomorrow."

Aunt Petunia nodded. "Fine, we'll get you there somehow." Then she turned back to Vernon, listing the pros and cons of various fertilizers.

Harry walked upstairs, and, even though it was still very early, he went to bed. Tomorrow he would be packing his bags, and after that he would see Ron and Hermione again. They would have lots of fun. Looking forward to the first day of school, Harry fell asleep.

* * *

Two days later, Uncle Vernon woke Harry rather violently.

"GET UP, BOY! We're leaving in fifteen minutes sharp!"

Harry opened his eyes; it felt like it was still the middle of the night. A quick glance at his watch proved him right. He quickly dressed, then carried his heavy trunk down the stairs and heaved it into the car. He had no time left for breakfast.

"Why are we leaving this early?"

"Did you really think I would waste a work day just to get you to your freak-school? I have to be in the office by 9:30. Got that?"

Vernon was apparently in a very bad mood. Harry simply nodded and tried to think of activities he could possibly do to pass the time whilst waiting for a few hours at a train station.

* * *

Harry crossed the barrier and took refuge in a tiny bakery located near the gates with the intention of finally having some breakfast, when an old, grand-motherly lady took the seat next to him.

"Wotcha, Harry. Mind some company?" The woman grinned at him sheepishly from under her grey, curly wig.

"Tonks! No, not at all!"

Together, they waited until a loud voice announced the arrival of The Hogwarts Express; Harry was the first to board the train, but not long afterwards he was able to observe the first students and their parents filing onto the platform.

"Are those seats taken?" a familiar voice inquired. Harry turned away from the window and recognized Neville, Luna and Terry Boot standing in the doorway.

"Actually, two are. I'm saving them for Ron and Hermione, sorry."

"Well, we'll find something somewhere. See you, Harry," Neville answered.

"Later." Harry went back to observing the happenings outside.

The clock showed almost ten and still there was no sign of the Weasleys. Suddenly, a huge wave of red flooded through the barrier. Harry jumped up, calling his friends over.

"Hello, Harry, how are you?" Mr. Weasley came up to his window, while the others were busy heaving the trunks onto the train.

"Just fine," Harry replied.

"I see the Dursleys managed to bring you here, I'm truly sorry we couldn't pick you up."

Ron and Hermione entered the compartment and Harry turned to greet them. Suddenly, the doors slammed shut; one last wave and they were moving.

"Hey, mate, how's your summer?" Ron asked.

"What'd you think? I sat around all day being bored. And yours?"

"Well, we…"

"Whatever. I don't think I want to know," Harry cut him off annoyed.

He didn't need Ron's descriptions to know that they had had a far better summer than he did. Harry watched the last houses of London vanish behind a curve. After a while, he turned back to Ron.

"Sorry, but my summer was everything but nice."

Ron nodded in understanding. Silence fell in their compartment, broken only by the occasional giggles from Hermione and Ginny, who were reading a girls' magazine. After a while, Ron challenged Harry to a game of chess, Ginny left to see Dean, and Hermione started reading the Prophet.

"Anything new?" Harry asked her.

"No, nothing again. He's kept his head low ever since the incident in the Department of Mysteries."

Harry frowned. "But…why is he? I mean, now that everyone knows…"

"V-Voldemort is clever. He needs his followers. And we just made sure that the best of them are in Azkaban. I bet he's hiding and developing some cunning plan. But, I doubt it will be long before we hear something."

Harry knew she was right. Time passed; the sun had reached its highest point a long while ago, and soon dusk would set in.

"I'll look for Neville. He sent me an owl a few days ago," Hermione said and got up. "Then you'll have time to change."

"Neville asked Hermione if she could tutor him in Transfiguration, so he can take the re-sit," Ron explained. "She agreed."

"I've been meaning to ask her as well. For Potions," admitted Harry while putting on his robes.

"Uh, I guess you might be too late. She promised lots of students to tutor them already, and if she agrees to help you as well… I have no idea when she's planning to sleep."

"Is she tutoring you, too?"

"Yep, but I'm already done. We did History of Magic two hours every day."

"History of Magic?" Harry asked surprised. There was nothing worse than dry theory. "Even more Binns? When did you lose your marbles?"

"I'll try to get into the NEWT-class and I need an E for that. Harry, promise you won't laugh," Ron said, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed. "I…I was thinking of following in Bill's footsteps and starting a career at Gringotts. I'll need NEWTs in History of Magic, Transfiguration, DADA, and I'll have to start Arithmancy. Professor McGonagall told me there would be a class for beginners this term."

"Lucky you," Harry said and patted Ron on the shoulder. "I still need to get into the NEWT class in Potions…"

They both had changed and intended to start another game of chess when Malfoy's voice interrupted their setting up of the pieces.

"Oi, here you are, Potter. I was actually hoping you'd missed the train." Draco's wand was directed at Harry's chest. Unfortunately, Harry's wand was still in his coat pocket, which was spread messily on a seat.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry glanced at Ron but without luck. He was wandless as well.

"How about…some tea?" Malfoy smirked. "Or rather…some revenge? _Impedimenta_!"

Harry fell backwards and his head collided with a sharp edge. Even though he couldn't move, he still felt blood running down his skull.

"_That_ was for my father…" But Draco wasn't able to finish his sentence. Ron had lunged forward and was trying to rip the wand out of Malfoy's hand. Slowly, Harry regained the feeling in his body. The curse hadn't been very strong and was already losing its effects. He sat up and his hand searched the seat for his coat but without success. Finally, Crabbe and Goyle managed to free Draco from Ron. Nevertheless, Ron had disarmed him and was now holding Malfoy's wand. Clutched between the two huge bullies, he fired curses in every direction. Even Harry had to duck to avoid being hit again. He yelled at Ron to stop, but Ron seemed to be in a stupor. Determined, Harry reached for his coat, pulled his wand out, and in that precise moment, he was hit by another curse. Before he lost his consciousness, he heard Malfoy's cold laugh.

* * *

It seemed to last hours until someone finally performed the counter curse. Hermione was bending over him.

"Harry, what happened?"

Harry sat up. He noticed the puddle of blood he was in, and felt for the wound. It burned terribly. His glance fell on Ron, who was rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically. Probably _Rictusempra_, he thought. Then he abruptly stood up.

"Ron stunned me," he explained.

His head hurt and all he wanted to do was to lie down. He remembered Malfoy's laugh; Ron had made a fool of himself in front of their archenemy. Harry made to leave the compartment.

"Harry! Where are you going?" Hermione sounded worried. "It must have been an accident."

"Sure," Harry answered, but kept walking.

"Harry, come back and sit down. You are injured." Hermione had gotten hold of his sleeve and was trying to pull him back inside.

"'Mione, let me go," Harry told her in a very annoyed voice.

"I can't let you go off like…."

"JUST LET ME," Harry yelled and fiercely freed himself from her grip.

He shouldn't have screamed like that, because now lots of compartment doors opened and students were staring around curiously. Harry ignored them all, marched to the toilet and shut himself in.

His head hurt. The wound wouldn't stop bleeding and a small stream of blood ran down his neck. But all he did was sit there and think. He knew Ron hadn't meant to hit him, but rather Malfoy, with that curse. Still, he didn't want to forgive him just now. Not just that Ron and Hermione had kept him out of their holidays, even if Dumbledore wouldn't allow his presence at the Burrow, they could have written or, since there seemed to be a desperate fear of intercepted owls, called more often. Now, they'd got him into this mess as well. Ron should have listened to him when he told him to stop. Malfoy's intention had been clear, vengeance on Harry. Harry could have shown him the way to the door if it hadn't been for Ron.

* * *

It became darker and darker outside. They would arrive at Hogsmeade station before long. If he wanted to have a little chat with Malfoy, he would have to act soon. Harry got up. He felt nauseous, and his head hurt even more. He went into the next coach. Malfoy and his bullies must be somewhere down here. The nausea worsened with every step, and Harry had to lean against a wall. Someone came out of the opposite compartment. It was Neville. He half-carried Harry the few steps into their compartment. Harry broke down onto the next seat. He recognized Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot and Luna Lovegood sitting around him, all students who had belonged to last year's DA.

"Harry, are you OK?" Neville looked concerned and started to examine the wound.

"My head…" was all Harry could muster to say. As soon as he tried to sit straight, the whole room started to circulate.

"I think he needs professional help," observed Luna. "Too bad there are no teachers on board."

"True," Anthony admitted. "But wait, what about your brother?" He was looking at Terry.

Terry jumped up. "I'll be right back!"

"What is he doing?" Harry inquired in voice not more than a weak whisper.

"He's fetching his brother," Luna repeated. "He took an advanced class on magical healing. Believe me; Simon will get you on your feet in no time."

Harry closed his eyes. The wound burnt and burnt. A noise and the opening of the door caused him to open his eyes again. Next to Terry he could make out a Ravenclaw seventh year. Harry didn't know him, and he didn't look anything like Terry. Terry was blonde with green eyes and an average strong build. This Simon, on the other hand, was tall and skinny with black hair and pale-blue eyes, as well as a very unhealthy pale face. Simon kneeled down beside Harry and examined his injury.

"I can heal it, but it will hurt."

Harry just nodded. If only the pain would stop. Simon raised his wand and touched the wound slightly. Then he mumbled, "_Asklepio_". Harry felt the wound grow even hotter. He squeezed his eyes shut and grinded his teeth. Gradually, the pain decreased.

He opened his eyes. No more nausea. He looked down. He and the seat were covered in blood.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll take care of it," Luna assured him, and with a light swish of her wand the blood vanished. Harry thanked her and Simon, and after the older student left, he turned to Terry.

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"Well, I don't – not really. My parents adopted him when he was about four." Terry fell silent. Harry took the signal.

"I guess I'd better go and get my stuff. We should arrive any minute now."

* * *

The train started to slow down as he approached his compartment. He heard Hermione giggling. He didn't know why, but he slowed down, and quietly tiptoed to the door. He glanced inside and saw Ron and Hermione sitting side by side. Ron whispered something into her ear.

"Ron, stop! That tickles." Hermione giggled some more and then sat up straight. She kissed Ron on the cheek and started to pull her trunk form the rack. While doing so, she caught sight of Harry, who was still standing rooted in the doorway.

"Harry…" she started. Harry marched inside and gathered his things.

"When did you mean to tell me about this?" he asked in a hostile fashion.

Hermione glanced nervously to Ron. "We – uhm – we wanted to, but…" She started an explanation. "Please, don't be upset."

"I AM NOT UPSET! YOU HAD FUN ALL SUMMER LONG. I SHOULD HAVE GUESSED. YOU… YOU…" Harry couldn't find the right words. "_Locomotor _trunk," he mumbled and left. Harry pushed his way through the mass of students to one of the coaches. He even ignored Hagrid, who shouted his usual "Hey Harry, how ar' ye?"

* * *

In Hogwarts, Harry kept a good distance between himself and Ron and Hermione. He was last to enter the castle, together with a few Slytherins, Luna and Neville. The rush into the Great Hall abruptly slowed down, and he could make out confused whispers. He couldn't see what was going on. Finally, the crowd came to a complete stop. Suddenly, he heard Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice: "Everything is all right. Please enter and file up on both sides of the hall. Move on."

The students started to move again. As soon as Harry passed the oak-doors, he found out what had caused the confusion. Not four, but five long dining tables were set up inside. He queued a few metres behind his friends and took a good look around. At the front, he could see the High Table, where Dumbledore stood confidently waiting. Beneath him, there were the four former tables, decorated with the house symbols; an eagle for Ravenclaw, the badger of Hufflepuff, a snake picturing Slytherin and the Gryffindor lion. The last table, however, showed the portrait of a Phoenix.

When all students were lined up, Prof. McGonagall closed the doors and took her place at the High Table Dumbledore spoke, "as you can see, there have been re-arrangements. We, that are the staff and I, wanted to create and introduce a more individual way of teaching. This is done best in smaller groups. Thus, we agreed to break up the former four-house-system and added a fifth one – the House of Phoenix. Students who have shown, or will show, bravery, friendship and caring will be accepted here. Professor McPherson has kindly agreed to take up the post of Head of House."

He paused and smiled down at the rows of students in front of him. "This means that everyone will have to be resorted. It could be a new chance for many of you; you can become a member of a new environment; but it also means that you might have to leave your former house and fellow colleagues behind. However, I entrust you to take this opportunity to form new bonds. Keep in mind: everyone will need some time to adjust! Enough talk! Professor McGonagall?"

"Before the new students are sorted, you will take your new places," Prof McGonagall set up the familiar stool and placed the Sorting-hat on top. "You know the procedure. Take turns, one from the left, and then one from the right. Begin."

While the first student approached the hat, Prof. McGonagall left the Great Hall to greet the new students.

Harry glanced over to Ron, who looked back at him. How could they betray him like this? Why couldn't they tell him, so he was bound to find out through some silly coincidence? _And now this._ Dumbledore must have gone completely nuts over the summer, tearing up the houses. But, a faint voice in Harry's head whispered softly, there was one good thing about it. Imagine if he ended up in a different place than Ron and Hermione? He could definitely do with some distance…

He turned to the hat. Lavender Brown had just been sorted back into Gryffindor. Susan Bones, the next candidate and former Hufflepuff, became a Gryffindor as well. Terry Boot stayed in Ravenclaw, Millicent Bulstrode in Slytherin. Padma Patil, finally, was the first student to be sorted into the new house. And so on. Then Draco Malfoy strode up. Four years ago, the hat had barely touched his head before sorting him; now it took him more than a minute until it shouted "Slytherin"; Crabbe and Goyle followed suit.

It was Hermione's turn. She took her seat on the stool, looked at Ron, then at Harry, and put on the hat. "PHOENIX!" Hermione gave the hat to Ron and walked to her new house table. Ron had to wait longer, but in the end, he became a "PHOENIX." At some point Ginny, who was still a Gryffindor, handed the hat to Harry. The last thing he saw before his eyes were covered by the huge hat were Ron and Hermione, who looked up at him expectantly.

"Just don't put me with them. Not into Phoenix." He thought. The hat's voice rang quietly in his ears.

"So, you don't want to be in Phoenix House?"

"No! I thought I'll just return to Gryffindor," Harry thought resolutely.

"I'd say you'd fit nicely into Phoenix, that you, Harry Potter, are preordained to be sorted into Phoenix. It values all your goals, everything you've been fighting for."

"Whatever, I don't want to be in there," Harry thought defiantly.

"Mmh, well, you've always been a rather tough candidate, and I wasn't so sure about sorting you into Gryffindor the first time around, so…" the Hat mused.

"Nonononono, I didn't mea…"

"…it'll be SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

Harry slowly pulled down the hat. Did it really say Slytherin? It was very quiet and every eye was fixed upon him; horrified expressions on their faces reflected the students' shocked reactions. He got up in slow motion and his legs carried him to the Slytherin table, his pale face matching the white candles hovering near the ceiling. He was still holding the hat until Hannah Abbot took it from him. For some weird reason, Malfoy was pleased to see "the famous Potter" sitting at the same table. Harry forced himself to follow the rest of the ceremony. Neville was sorted into the new house, and Terry's brother was the last one to receive his new destination. He became a Slytherin, but took it far better than Harry. Simon walked over and slumped on the seat next to him.

Now it was time for the first years to enter. They looked around, a pool of scared and nervous youngsters waiting for the hat to begin its song. It cleared its throat and then started a speech.

_"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts, come in! Here, where once four ruled, are now five to lead you. The one who is prepared to fight the Dark Lord will find his place in Phoenix. You, who are of a hard-working mind and ready to believe in the good, will be at home in Hufflepuff. Ravenclaws are known for their cleverness and quick minds. Eagerness and cunning minds are treasured by Slytherin. Gryffindor values bravery and companionship. Now, new students come and try me on. I will evaluate your strengths and tell you where you belong." _

While the first years started their sorting, Harry glanced around the table. The colours of the robes told him that a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had found their way into Slytherin as well. He was the only Gryffindor, though.

"How are you?" Simon asked.

"Tough question, my headache is gone, but other that that I feel kind of pissed off."

Simon nodded and turned back to the sorting.

Harry's eyes met Malfoy's, who got up and took the other empty seat next to Harry.

"Well, got cold feet? Did you think the Dark Lord would forgive you?" he teased with a cold voice. Harry silently looked at him; he didn't want to risk a fight. He hadn't forgotten their little argument on the train, either. But he wouldn't start anything in front of the accumulated staff.

"Wait 'til you see our common rooms, I bet they're much better than the hole they stick Gryffindors in," Draco sneered on. "Further, there aren't any Mudbloods we would have to share our dormitories with. How did you stand that smell, anyway?"

This was too much. Harry grabbed Malfoy's collar and tore him off his chair. "Take that back, Malfoy, or…or did you maybe forget what it was like being a ferret? I could give you another taste of it!"

"Yeah, I'd like to see that," Malfoy smirked. "With your talent, you won't even be able to grow me fur."

Their argument got louder. The other students started to look at them instead of following the ongoing sorting.

"Oh, really? If you think you're a better wizard than I am, you are mistaken. I'd say you couldn't even turn an old, wrinkled ball into a stone!" Harry provoked him.

"You wish! I'll prove you wrong in our first lesson. Or better now - let's go out!" Malfoy yelled back.

Everyone in their vicinity was now observing their fight.

"Silence!"

Harry heard a cold, quiet voice from behind and two icy hands broke the fighters apart. "If you would kindly follow me. Potter, Mr. Malfoy."

Professor Snape turned on his heels and strode out of the Great Hall, down the stairs and into his office. Harry's dislike for Snape could only be matched by Snape's dislike for Harry, and now that he was Harry's Head of House, the situation wasn't very likely to improve for him.

"So," Snape said softly, "it is my pleasure to welcome you to my house, Mr. Potter."

He conjured a plate of sandwiches and some juice with a wink of his wand.

"How thoughtful of you to set an example of your ignorant etiquette right away, whilst bringing Slytherin a negative start of term." He pushed the plate towards the boys. Malfoy immediately started eating, while Harry only nibbled on his slice of bread. He didn't feel very hungry. He was still realizing that he was now in Snape's house, even more exposed to Snape's reign of terror.

"I will have to deduct five points each. You had better make sure to improve your manners and avoid similar situations in the future."

Malfoy and Harry finished their meagre dinner before Snape ushered them out of his office.

"Follow me; I will accompany you to the common rooms." He swept down the damp corridor and further into the dark dungeons, his robes billowing behind him. At last, he stopped in front of a cold, grey, stone wall.

"The password is _Snakeblood_."

The wall opened and they entered the Slytherin Common Room. Harry had been here once before, back in second year, but he couldn't notice any changes. Snape turned to leave.

"I have to return to the feast. Mr. Malfoy, you will show Mr. Potter the premises."

He looked at them indignantly. "Neither of you are to leave the Common Room, do I make myself plain?" Both nodded.

"To prevent any accidents that might occur, your wands will be confiscated. You will get them back tomorrow morning." He held out his open hand. Harry and Draco grinded their teeth and reluctantly handed their wands over.

"Goodnight."

Harry looked at Malfoy, waiting for him to start the grand tour.

"Now, see where you got us?"

"Me!?" Harry couldn't help a livid outburst, but he quickly regained his self-control and kept the swelling, angry emotions inside.

"So, why are you in Slytherin?" Draco circled him with slow paces while eyeing Harry suspiciously. Finally, he seemed satisfied that Harry had no hidden dangerous objects with him and settled in a chair in front of the fire. Harry, meanwhile, was lost in thoughts.

"Good question, actually. But you'll have to consult the Sorting Hat on this one."

"Yeah, right!" Draco laughed out loud, though it still had a cold air in it. "The Sorting Hat's just as mad as Dumbledore. It wanted to put me into the new house, Phoenix-orwhatsthis, imagine that, _me_!" He paused and looked slyly at Harry. "Want to know why it didn't? Because I didn't want to end up in there, I told it to keep me in Slytherin, the House of my Master."

Harry should have guessed. "You are mad."

"You still haven't told me why you're here. Why aren't you with your dear Mudblood-girlfriend, Granger?"

"Hermione is NOT my girlfriend!" Harry started yelling, again.

"Answer my question."

But Harry paced in front of the fireplace, breathing heavily. The reminder of his friends' betrayal caused intense fury in him. Did Malfoy know what had happened? Did he intentionally provoke his anger so he would get himself into even more trouble?

"Just admit it; you're here to spy on us."

"Oh, no. You're wrong. I am here because I chose. I didn't want to be in Phoenix House either."

A smile slowly spread over Draco's face. "Well, well… we're getting there…"

Harry kept silent. He had said too much already. No one - not even Ron and Hermione - knew about the Sorting Hat's intention of putting him in Slytherin a few years back. And it wouldn't change now.

"I thought you were supposed to show me around?"

"What? Do you need your beauty sleep, Potter? Remember one thing, for the true Slytherin, life starts after the official part."

"Malfoy, I got up this morning way before sunrise. If you don't tell me where the dormitories are, I will have to turn the whole dungeon upside down until I find them."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Malfoy mocked. "Why didn't you stay in the Muggle-hole you came from in the first place?"

"Keep the Dursleys…." Harry towered menacingly over Draco, but the voices of the approaching Slytherins caused him to hesitate. The wall slid aside and Harry backed off, not taking his eyes of the young Malfoy.

"Draco, you missed a splendid feast!" Crabbe slumped into a close-by chair.

"If you say so," Draco appeared bored, but his eyes were still awake and locked on Harry. Harry's attention, however, was now focused on a Slytherin who was wearing the Prefect Badge.

He was talking to the first-years, "… must be tired, I will show you your dormitories."  
Harry moved forward, so that the Prefect would notice him.

"Hello, Harry, did Draco show you the sleeping quarters? No? Then come along." He shoved a tapestry aside that gave way to a long corridor with many doors leading left and right. He stopped in front of the last pair. "The right one leads to the girls' dormitory; boys, you will find your beds to your left. Have a good night."

Then he turned to Harry and his fellow newly-sorted Slytherins.

"Follow me!" He stopped half way back to the Common Room. "Here are the rooms for the sixth years." Harry stepped forward to open the door, but the Prefect put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you seriously planning to go to bed now? It's party-time." He grabbed Harry's robes and tried to force him back to the Common Room. But Harry proved stronger; he struggled free and escaped in to the quietness of his new bedroom.

It was much bigger than the Gryffindor one. All the beds had soft, green hangings adorned with tiny silver snakes. He spotted his belongings on one bed in a corner. He let himself fall onto it, not yet tired enough to sleep, but all the thoughts whirling around in his brain were screaming for some attention. His thoughts were a jungle of Hermione, Ron, Phoenix House and Sirius. He desperately needed someone to talk to, but his two best friends had just betrayed him and his godfather, the only other person he could have turned to, was dead.

At some point, he fell asleep, not even noticing Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle entering their dormitory later that night.

**To Be Continued**

* * *

** I like coffee and reviews.**

* * *

**Next:** The trio keeps fighting and Snape spills some beans...

* * *

The quote above is taken form a song by Lacrimosa:_When the sun left the day.  
Eyes tightly shut, soul cramped,  
Memories forgotten, a future full of fear._


	3. Q&A

**Chapter 3: Q&A - _Summary: _**_ The trio keeps fighting and Snape spills some beans._

_Many thanks are owed to Sophi, my superb beta._

* * *

Harry rose early the next morning. When he pulled the hangings apart, it was still dark outside. He looked around the room; everyone else was fast asleep. He glanced to the mirror; his hair was messy as usual. He halted and looked into the mirror once more. Just then he realized the emblem on his robes, it was no longer red. It was green, a certain, special green. He _hated_ this green. He had done so ever since he found out what it represented, _Slytherin_, ever since he first met Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins. All on their best way to become Death Eaters just like their parents. And now, he lived in their midst. He had always fought on the other side - against Voldemort, sending Death Eaters to Azkaban. Parents of many of his new housemates were residing inside the wizard prison because of him. How had he gotten into this? He hadn't wanted to be sorted into Phoenix House, yes, but why hadn't the Sorting Hat just put him back into Gryffindor? 

Lost in his thoughts, he left the dormitory and made his way to the common room. As soon as he entered, he regretted the decision. Already three other people were sitting by the fire. He didn't recognize them but walked over nevertheless. He was curious to find out how they would treat him, the archenemy of their master? Unfortunately, the answer would have to wait; as he approached the chairs Harry recognized the two former Ravenclaw students and only one Slytherin.

"Hey, Harry," Simon greeted him and pointed to an empty chair. "Have a seat. These are Ethan Skinner and Frederic Montague." Harry eyed the seventh year. He remembered him slightly different than the young man sitting now in front of him. He used to be strong and scary, now he appeared bony and sallow.

"Hi, didn't you play Captain on the Slytherin Quidditch Team last year? You've changed quite a bit since then." Harry played nasty; he could see that Frederic felt uncomfortable.

"Your friends, the Weasley twins, played a big part in this."

"The Vanishing Cabinet…" Harry mumbled, suddenly remembering the twins' prank in fifth year.

"What's that?" Ethan asked curiously.

"It's a special room that was created way after the original castle was built. No idea why, but it lets people and things disappear. When you are inside, it's pure hell," Frederic explained. "The room is filled with magic, and after a while you don't know where up and down, left or right are. You are in a kind of maze, losing the feeling for space and time. Some need months to find their way back out."

"When the room was built, it was meant to be an advanced training method for older students, to test their skills and ability to resist Dark Magic. They had to master several difficult tasks, like thinking up strategies of defence without losing their sanity," Simon continued. "But the room became a danger to weaker students. It threatened their mental and bodily health. That's why it was taken from the syllabuses about one hundred years ago."

They all went silent. Harry gazed out of the small dungeon window. The rising sun coloured the lake and the forbidden forest in a slightly red-orange shimmer. Slowly, noises of life emerged from the dormitories; soon the common room would be filled with their classmates.

"Harry, what are you afraid of?" Simon inquired unexpectedly when the two of them sat alone.

"I'm not afraid," Harry replied and look to the floor embarrassedly.

"Oh yes, you are. I can see it clearly in your eyes," Simon stated. "You believe that you don't belong here."

Harry looked up at Simon; he was right, but Harry didn't want to talk about it just now. "This is not the time and place to discuss the Sorting, okay?"

Simon understood.

* * *

The first day as a Slytherin turned out to resemble hell. At breakfast, Harry sat alone at one corner of the table. When searching the High Table for Hagrid, Harry noticed Snape, who barely took his eyes off him, observing his every move. Hagrid, however, seemed to have enjoyed a relaxing vacation; he was talking cheerfully to a new Professor Harry hadn't noticed so far. She was a middle-aged witch with dark-blonde hair and glasses. She had to be the new DADA teacher, as it was the only job opening at Hogwarts. 

"Mr. Potter?" Harry jumped. Snape had glided towards him without a single sound and was now standing right behind Harry, handing him a piece of parchment. "Your timetable."

"Uhm…thanks," Harry murmured while examining his new schedule.

"Professor Snape…" Harry muttered confused. "I'm in the NEWT-class for Potions, does that mean…"

"You are in the NEWT-class," Snape interrupted him with a silky voice, "until you have failed your re-sit. You will be degraded immediately afterwards. I will need the application form by tomorrow morning or you can erase the class immediately." With that, Snape turned on his heels and continued to hand out timetables to the remaining students.

"You're doing a re-sit in Potions?" Simon had followed their little chat and seemed interested.

"Yep, but I don't stand a chance. I'm a loser in Potions."

"Oh, come on! I'm sure you'll be fine. From what I've heard, you can't be such a bad student."

"Uhm…" Harry could come up with many buts and whens but thought better of it. "Well, maybe. With some tutoring."

Simon nodded encouragingly and left. Harry, with a quick glance on his watch, followed suit.

* * *

His first class would be Charms, followed by Herbology. NEWT-level classes seemed to mainly take place in the morning, and as he realized in front of the classroom, students of all five houses would participate in one class. His chances of avoiding his former Housemates decreased significantly. Sure enough, he could make out Hermione among the waiting students. She was talking animatedly to Padma Patil and didn't even take notice of Harry when he approached. Harry was nudged in the back and whirling around he saw Malfoy. 

"'Morning, Potter," he started, "what did I do to deserve even more classes with you?"

"Malfoy." Harry imitated his tone of voice. "Just shut up."

Harry turned back to the door, which had just opened. To Harry's surprise, the unknown witch was standing in the doorway, beckoning them inside. Without actually intending to, Harry addressed Malfoy. "Who is she?" But Draco only shrugged his shoulders and strolled into the classroom. Harry tried to find a seat as far away from Malfoy as possible, but besides the one on Draco's table, only the seat next to Hermione was free. Instinctively, he steered towards her, but Hermione shook her head.

"Sorry, I'm saving this one for Neville. He's on his way." Boiling with anger, Harry walked over to Draco instead and reluctantly slumped on the chair.

"Now that everyone's seated, we should be able to begin," the new teacher started her first lesson. "I'm Professor McPherson. Professor Flitwick will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, so I will be covering his former job. This year we will be covering two major fields: Projecting and Apparating."

She let the students digest the information before continuing. "The past years, you've been transporting objects from A to B, vanishing them or summoning them. These are all necessary skills, but have any of you ever wondered how, for example, a _Cleansweep Seven_ works?" She mustered the class. Harry liked the idea of stripping and examining a broom, discovering which part was charmed how. "We will be projecting various features onto objects of all kinds. I wanted to start with self-knitting needles, but Professor Flitwick advised me not to, too dangerous." The students laughed. Neville, always having more trouble than other students, blushed. He was probably imagining how he would charm the needles to knit without being punctured.

Professor McPherson started handing out sugar bowls and spoons to everyone. After successfully applying the Projecting Charm, the spoon should be giving one scoop of sugar into a cup of tea on a simple clap of hands. But not even Hermione managed to get it right. Her spoon kept shovelling sugar into the cup until there was none left in the bowl. Harry's, on the other hand, hadn't moved at all.

With mixed feelings, Harry departed to Herbology. He knew that Ron would be taking this class, along with Hermione. To his great relief, Draco would be absent, though his cronies Crabbe and Goyle took part in this class.

His glance fell on Ron and Hermione, who quickly looked away. Both of them kept distant. He wondered not for the first time how and when he had changed. Okay, he yelled a lot lately, had trouble controlling his temper, and his clothing bore a different colour than his friends, if he could still call them that.

"They could at least apologize for their behaviour on the train," Harry thought. It had clearly been their fault; it was the slightest bit they could do.

Harry was glad that Professor Sprout gave them a task that required his complete attention and distracted him for two hours from his problems. He was supposed to replant a flesh-eating plant and feed it. Many times his index finger was in the almost-fatal situation of becoming the nutritious dessert. If the plant did actually bite, you quickly had to stun it and extract your limbs from its sharp teeth. This was meant to prevent major injuries. Neville, working on the neighbouring table, wasn't as lucky as Harry. The plant had its teeth anchored deep in his finger; his wand emitted green and blue sparks that didn't do any harm to the plant. He was yelping for help until Harry got a clear shot of the plant and Stunned it. Justin had to take Neville to the hospital wing to stop the intense bleeding of his wounded hand.

After his lessons, Harry hurried back to the castle. He just wanted to be on his own. He walked to the Slytherin Quarters and hid in his bedroom. He wasn't hungry. He brooded. Why did he let them provoke him? What did the Hat intend by sorting him into Slytherin? Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Malfoy's arrival.

"Simon's looking for you, Potter."

"Tell him I don't want to see him," Harry answered melancholically. Draco fumbled with his trunk and left.

The more Harry mulled over those questions, the more he felt the need of talking to someone. But to whom? Sirius was dead; he strictly refused to turn to Ron or Hermione. Well, at least until they apologized. He thought about Simon. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to talk to him. He seemed to be a nice guy, not as spoiled or corrupt like the rest of Slytherin. He was in the same situation as Harry, and he had been in Ravenclaw before. Harry had just made up his mind when someone knocked on the door and Simon entered the dormitory.

"One could think you can read minds," Harry stated, still slightly sad.

"Malfoy said you weren't feeling too well," Simon replied.

"Malfoy doesn't care about me." Harry felt his mood change to the worse again. Just don't lose your temper, he thought.

"Did you want to talk about the Sorting?" Harry kept silent. He couldn't decide if yes or no. Simon only looked at him keenly, waiting.

After a few minutes of staring at each other, Harry burst out, "Why are you in Slytherin?"

"I knew you would ask me this at some point. And my answer to that would only hurt you more," Simon replied hesitantly. After a short pause he started to explain slowly.

"I grew up with the Boots. My parents were both dark wizards, following You-Know-Who. I never met them, but the Boots told me about them shortly before my departure to Hogwarts; since then, I've known who my real parents are. And what they did."

"I couldn't hide my heritage before the Hat. He wanted to sort me into Slytherin, but I fought. The knowledge of my parents' true identity had strengthened me. The Hat acknowledged my fight and sorted me into Ravenclaw." Simon stopped. He was biting his lower lip.

"What's up?" Harry asked concerned. "You don't like talking about your parents?" Simon shook his head.

"No, I mean…What would _you_ think, when you believed your parents to be dead throughout your childhood and then suddenly…" Simon faltered. "And then you find out that they are one of the closest followers of the Dark Lord and carried out some of his darkest orders and ended up in Azkaban."

"Your parents are in Azkaban?" Harry felt uneasy and noticed that Simon looked sad and pale.

"They were…until they were freed by the Dark Lord last year." Simon spoke with a firm voice. Harry didn't ask any further. He felt sorry for Simon. He had an idea of his endurance, after discovering some truth about his own father last year that still ashamed him. Simon's situation was far worse. After all, James and Sirius hadn't been sent to Azkaban for taking off Snape's pants (or not, for that matter).

A surprised look on his watch told he was about to be late for his next class. Harry hurried out to Hagrid's Hut. "Hello, Hagrid," he forced in a cheery voice but only received a brumby reply. Hagrid was bending over a few wooden boxes. Harry sneaked a glance and burst out, "But those are only ordinary rabbits!"

Hagrid grinned sheepishly. "Mmh, no' entirely. These'r Magic-rabbits, damn fas' an' hard t'catch. The Ministry's been tryin' t'use 'em 's replacemen' fer owls but so far without success."

The lesson turned out to be quite fun. As soon as the boxes were opened, two of the rabbits were gone in a flash. The students' task was to build comfortable housings for the rabbits and then move the magical animals into them. Hagrid didn't talk much with Harry, but that was probably because of the chaotic situation. By the end of the lesson, however, Harry was invited to a cup of tea the coming Saturday.

After the lesson, Harry escaped to the library. He didn't feel like spending his leisure time in the Slytherin common room. Instead, he tried to finish his History of Magic essay, but he just couldn't focus. Finally, he gave up and went for some dinner. Later, while resting on his bed, he took out the application for the re-examination. It was already filled in. Tomorrow, during Potions, he would have to hand it in. "Hermione," he thought, "not there when needed." He opened the homework-planner she had given him last year for Christmas and wrote down a possible schedule. Then he started to study Potions Theory.

* * *

Harry knew even before entering the classroom that a NEWT-level class with Snape would be terribly hard. Harry ignored Hermione, who was naturally taking this class as well, and took a seat in the front row. 

"Today, we will be preparing a potion that requires your ultimate concentration. Former slips of mind might have caused minor disasters, but from this year on I strongly suggest you keep in mind that we do not cook simple soups inside this classroom." Snape started the lesson in that menacing, barely audible, whisper of his. "You will brow the so-called Wolfsbane potion which, when single ingredients are falsely dosed, can result in death. Does anyone know what it is used for?" Harry as well as Hermione raised his hand. Snape's gaze swept around the class, but nobody else seemed to know.

"Very well, Potter?"

"Wolfsbane is taken by a werewolf a few days prior to the full moon and helps it to keep its sanity during its transformation and stay harmless."

Snape nodded curtly and, with a lazy flick of his wand, projected the recipe onto the board.

"You will be working in pairs." Harry looked around; Hermione seemed to be interested to be his partner, but he concluded in ignoring her further. "Potter, you will join Goyle," Snape commanded with a sneer. Reluctantly, Harry turned to the hulking Slytherin.

Brewing a potion together with Goyle simply couldn't go right. The ingredients weren't cut according to the instructions, and the potion didn't simmer in red, but rather a deep shade of purple. When blue bubbles started to emit from the cauldron and burst on the ceiling, Snape finally swept over to them.

"Potter!" Snape bent down to have a closer look at their attempted Wolfsbane. "Do tell me why you used too much Mycelium? Did you intent to poison someone? Lupin, perhaps?" A sleek grin hushed over his pale features. "Five points from Gryff…" Snape paused and looked loathingly into Harry's eyes. "Slytherin," he snarled quietly.

Time just wouldn't pass, and the lesson seemed to go on and on. Harry tried to fix the Wolfsbane so it would at least look like the potion they were supposed to be brewing. Goyle tried to help and give advice, but everything the bullyboy suggested just worsened the situation.

Finally, the bell rang. Harry hurriedly packed his bag when Snape called the Slytherins back. "Quidditch tryouts will be held on Friday afternoon. If you're interested, be on the field at three sharp." With this, the class was dismissed.

"Potter, your application form?"

Harry hastily search his bag and handed the required parchment to Snape.

"Professor, could I please get my broom back?"

Snape looked at him sharply and a smile curled around his lips.

"I'll see what I can do."

Harry felt the happiest in days. These were the best news he had gotten since his return to Hogwarts. He loved Quidditch and was a very good Seeker, but … He stopped in his tracks. _Malfoy_ was the Slytherin Seeker - not good, but influential. Did he even stand a chance to be chosen for the team?

* * *

Harry walked up the steps leading to the classroom occupied by Professor Binns. History of Magic was as boring as ever; they were being lectured about the installment and development of the Ministry of Magic. It was a sheer surprise that no one was talked into sleep by the monotonous voice rattling names and dates seemingly without end. When the lunch-bell at long last saved them, Harry strolled alone after his fellow classmates down to the Great Hall. He took a seat next to Simon. 

"So, how is it?" the older student asked him.

"Lonely," Harry sighed truthfully.

"Well, that'll stop soon enough," Simon assured him and proceeded with eating his stew.

Harry pulled out his Potions book and reread the passages about Mycelium. He simply had to succeed in the examination. He stood a fair chance of mastering the theoretical paper, if he just studied hard enough. But the practical test would be much harder. He never focused enough to precisely follow the instructions.

* * *

Harry spent the days avoiding Malfoy and his friends, but in the common room, this was a tough task. While Harry tried to do his Herbology homework, Draco used his leisure time to annoy him. He distracted him by having loud discussions with his cronies about Muggle-loving fools in the Ministry or shooting paper balls at him. Every time Harry complained, Draco only laughed and continued his infuriating behaviour. It took a long while until Harry realised that ignoring Malfoy's provoking attacks was a far better strategy. 

Wednesday night, Harry once again sat alone in his dormitory studying for Potions. Once again, somebody knocked on the door and interrupted his concentration. It was Simon.

"Here, your broom."

Harry looked up, smiling broadly, when he took hold of his most treasured possession. It felt great. He could have mounted his broom right there and played a game of Quidditch. But, he would have to dust and clean it first. It looked quite filthy after laying around for about year.

"Are you studying for Potions again?" Simon was looking at his notes.

"Yep," Harry said, still engaged with examining his broom.

"Only theory?"

"I'm not good at the practice either, but without permission from Snape and an approved tutor, I'm not allowed to brew potions on my own," Harry explained.

"That's true, but you're in his house, I'm sure you'd get one."

"Simon, please," Harry burst out. "He hates me."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. Would you like me to throw in a good word for you?" Simon offered.

"Okay, so what if? Who would tutor me?"

"Me." Simon turned to leave. "Think about it. We could start next week."

Harry hesitated. But the moment Simon closed the door behind him, he followed.

"Simon? Okay."

A smile showed on Simon's pale face. Then he left.

* * *

The next day Harry stared unbelievingly at the written note that allowed him to brew potions under the supervision of a seventh year NEWT-level student. 

Harry couldn't wait for the Quidditch tryouts. There was nothing he wished more for than being picked to play on the house team. At precisely quarter to three, he shouldered his Firebolt and, followed by Malfoy, who was armed with his Nimbus 2001, he marched to the Quidditch Field. Professor Snape was already waiting for them. At three o'clock twelve Slytherins had accumulated, and Snape began his speech.

"I had to discover that due to the new house system only three skilled players are left." Snape shot Harry a contemptuous look.

"Harry is a good Seeker," Simon interrupted.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion," Snape replied in a soft, deadly voice.

"Mount your brooms; let's see what you can do."

The four balls were freed from their captivity and the twelve players changed positions throughout the training session. Harry realized pretty soon that he wouldn't make a good Beater or Chaser. He could better concentrate when he had a position that was sole. He could imagine being Keeper, but Seeker was still his favourite spot. Snape whistled and ended the trials.

"I've seen enough. I want our team to win this year. Gryffindor has been way too successful the past years," Snape stated coldly, while sending a fleeting look towards Harry.

"Pritchard, you and Montague will play Beater," he declared while pacing the line of hopeful students.

"You are a fair player, indeed, but Malfoy is beyond doubt out of your reach," Snape sneered.

Harry felt his stomach twist. Snape wouldn't offer him a position on the team if he was playing for the British national team.

"Professor Snape," Simon's voice was confident, "didn't you just say you want to _win_ this season? I believe that Harry missed the Snitch only once, and the training just now was incredible."

"He was lucky," Snape retorted coolly.

"Give him a chance," Simon demanded. He had stepped up to Snape and was now very close, staring into his eyes just as cold and threateningly as Snape stared back. Simon seemed to have no fear at all. The faint notion of a cold smile spread across Snape's face.

"We shall draw lots. Malfoy, Potter, come here," Snape ordered quietly, barely moving his lips.

He placed his wand on his palm and muttered _Decidius_. The wand slowly rose into the air and circulated. The rotation slowed down. Harry noticed that Simon's eyes were fixed on the rotating wand, as if influencing it. The wand abruptly stopped, pointing to Harry. Snape cursed quietly, and turned back to the rest of the students.

"Potter will play Seeker, Mr. Malfoy and Bole, Chaser," Snape spat and eyed the others.

"Nott, you will be the new Keeper; everyone else may leave." Harry couldn't believe it; he really made Seeker. He glanced at Simon, grinned and gave him the thumbs-up.

"The first match of the season will be on the first weekend of October. Slytherin versus Phoenix. So train hard."

Then he turned sharply one last time to Simon.

"Mr. Lestrange, you will play Chaser and supervise the training sessions. Good Luck."

_TBC_

* * *

**Next:** Confusion and apologies. 

**How about letting me know what you're thinking right now :-)  
**


	4. Simon

**A/N:**  
kingprawnsct: Thank you very much for my very first review on this site! Your question will be answered in the next chapter, but not just Harry will have something to say about Simon's family tree.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Simon - _Summary:_**_ Confusion and apologies_. 

_  
Thanks to my superb betas, Sophie and Vanessa._

* * *

Harry felt his heart drop. Just now he had been the happiest person on earth, only to find out that the only person he currently could talk to was a _Lestrange_. Harry glanced back at the Slytherin team he had just been a proud member of, shouldered his Firebolt and stalked off the field. No one seemed to care about his early departure. He had no idea where to go. He felt like crying, though he didn't really know why. His feet automatically wandered to the Owlery, the only place that would be deserted at this time. He sunk to the floor and tears ran down his cheeks. Hedwig flew down to him and nibbled softly on his sleeve. Harry looked up and patted her. 

"Sorry, Hedwig. No letter for you," he whispered in a trembling voice. But instead of flying off, Hedwig stayed with him. Slowly, his anger lessened, but in its place he felt internal emptiness. He sat there for a long time, lethargic. Only when the sun dyed the sky a gentle orange did he step up to the window and watched it set behind the Forbidden Forest. When complete darkness surrounded him, he realized that it must be very late indeed, maybe around ten p.m., and he felt hunger creep up inside him. Dinner was over and he had no stores of food in his dormitory, so he left the Owlery and went straight to the kitchens.

Countless house-elves were busy preparing the next day's breakfast. They were setting the tables, but as soon as they took notice of Harry's presence, they hurried to offer him sandwiches and pumpkin juice.

"Harry Potter, sir?" A squeaky voice was audible over the bustling.

"Dobby, good to see you. How are you?" The tiny creature was still wearing the socks Harry had presented him with two years ago, together with an ensemble of Hermione's self-knitted hats.

"Harry Potter needs to be careful," Dobby piped. "Not all Slytherins like him. He has enemies, sir." Dobby handed him another helping.

"I'm aware of that," Harry replied, hardly surprised.

"Enemies are forging a plan," Dobby continued.

"How do you know about it?" Harry started to feel uneasy.

"Dobby hears things. But he doesn't know more. He doesn't like going into Slytherin Common Room. He's scared of them."

"Draco Malfoy?" Harry inquired. Dobby used to serve the Malfoy family under harsh conditions.

"Shh, please don't! Dobby doesn't want to hear their name."

"But the Malfoys-" Harry tried again, except Dobby refused to listen.

"Good day, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby interrupted him, hurt, and was gone in the blink of an eye.

Harry finished eating and then returned slowly to his Common Room. He briefly hesitated before passing through the stone wall. He hardly took notice of anyone else in the room but quickly scurried to his dormitory. All his anger had returned. He hated them all. He took Hermione's homework planner and furiously threw it against the opposite wall.

* * *

"Harry? Is everything okay with you?" Simon was standing in the middle of the room. Harry hadn't even heard him enter. He turned to the wall, away from Simon. 

"Bugger off!" he yelled.

"No, I won't," Simon answered calmly and continued to stand there, waiting.

"Your parents are responsible for Neville's parents' condition; _your_ mother killed Sirius! She treated me like a baby! And if I could, I'd kill her too! I hate all Lestranges, I HATE THEM!" Harry screamed it all out. Someone tried to get inside the dormitory and check what was going on, but Simon slammed the door shut again. Harry fell silent.

"You didn't humiliate me enough yet," Simon said, still in an unnerving, quiet manner.

"APPARENTLY NOT, OR YOU WOULD HAVE STORMED OUT AND LEFT ME IN PEACE!" Harry carried on. But Simon held his ground. Even another attack of cursing and swearing couldn't get him to waver. Finally, Harry threw himself onto his bed. Huge tears were flowing down his cheeks, while he desperately tried to hide them.

"You're right," Simon said, heaving a sigh. "You have every right to be mad at me because I didn't tell you my true identity from the very beginning. But you can't hold me responsible for my parents' deeds." Simon turned on his heel and left the room.

* * *

Harry felt terrible. All his anger suddenly ebbed away. He knew that he had done Simon wrong. He kept seeing his sad face in front of his eyes. Simon despised his parents as well, and he had a hard time talking about them. Hadn't Sirius's mother and relatives practiced Dark Arts without Sirius having been affected? Harry shoved himself off the bed and left the dormitory as well. 

Almost all of Slytherin was gathered in the Common Room. Harry needed some time to spot Simon in the crowd. Simon was standing with a few fellow seventh-years around a cauldron. Harry pushed his way through a group of third-years and took a deep breath.

"Simon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's okay," Simon replied, sounding surprised. "I'm used to this kind of treatment and suspicions just because of my name."

Harry looked uncertainly at Simon, and quickly changed the subject. "Thanks for your support, by the way."

"No problem," Simon smiled. "I booked the field for us for tomorrow. It's only four more weeks until the first game."

Harry grinned back; he hadn't expected the training to start this early.

Simon directed his attention back onto the cauldron. Now, Harry's interest was caught as well.

"What's this?"

"This is my specialty. You have to try it once it's done."

This didn't really answer Harry's question and he looked at Simon, a little bit confused. Simon added a bit of fine, white powder and the potion turned a clear green shade. He sniffed it and then tasted a spoonful. Then he nodded in Frederick's direction and handed him a soup spoon and a cup. When Simon pushed said cup into Harry's hand, he noticed his suspicious expression.

"Don't worry; I'm not intending to poison you."

Harry took the cup and, though still very sceptical, tasted the drink. It had a weird, sweet flavour, like cranberries, cherries and a bit of chocolate. It changed its flavour every few seconds into something else Harry really liked. After swallowing the liquid, he felt the warmth creeping up inside him.

"So?" Simon questioned him. Harry nodded appreciatively.

"What is it?" Harry inquired again and took another sip.

"Originally it was a Confundus Draught, but I worked on it until the original effect was lost."

Harry emptied his cup. The warmth spread through his whole body and, for the first time in weeks, he felt relaxed and content. Nothing could trigger any kind of anger in him now. One after the other, the students filled their cups, sometimes several times. But when Harry attempted to fill his own for the third time, Simon intervened.

"You shouldn't drink too much of this," he said with a low voice.

"No worries, I'm fine," Harry assured him.

"I don't doubt that, but you might experience a hangover tomorrow morning."

But Harry simply ignored Simon's warnings. He was having a good time, even with Draco, who had had just as much of this new drink as Harry, with whom he suddenly got along. Later, though, Harry could later not remember what they actually had talked about. Around three a.m., Simon sent everyone to their respective dormitories and Harry immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Shortly before lunch, Draco shook Harry awake. Harry's head felt as if a huge drum roll had played next to him all night. He dragged himself into the bathroom and, still half asleep, slipped down to the Great Hall to eat something. But he couldn't get a single bite down. He had no idea how he would manage Quidditch practice later on. Or anything else for that matter. After just sitting in the Common Room for a long, long time, Harry felt his headache recede. When it was time to go to the training session, he still felt slightly dizzy but otherwise all right. Despite his team-mate's sick condition, Simon seemed to be in good spirits and immediately started to talk them through various strategies. Shortly afterwards, they went out onto the field to practice the new moves. 

Only when Harry was lying on his bed later that night, exhausted and thinking about the day, did he remember his date with Hagrid. He decided to stop by tomorrow noon; everyone could forget an appointment once in awhile.

Hagrid, however, seemed to have taken the missed meeting personally. He acted strange, and Harry didn't stay long.

* * *

The next weeks, Harry spent a lot of time practicing Quidditch and brewing potions twice a week with Simon or studying their theory as often as possible. His homework suffered quite a bit; he'd often spend long nights at his desk, trying to do his best, which consequently resulted in being weary and tired at lessons during the day. 

Near the end of September, Harry received a letter. Unsurprisingly, he checked the name written in a tiny scrawl several times, as he couldn't imagine a single person writing to him at this moment. Lupin turned out to be the sender.

_Hello Harry,_

_You will surely be surprised to receive a letter from me, but I'm tired of hearing complaints regarding your current behaviour. I understand that you are undergoing difficult changes in your life and will have a hard time adjusting to recent events._

_Ron and Hermione are missing you terribly. They feel guilty for your present situation, but every time they try to come near you, you turn them down in a very cold manner. They are waiting for a sign from you._

_Your disagreement won't solve itself. Try to talk to them. Ignoring them and pretending not to be interested in their friendship any longer won't do any good nor will it help anything.   
Remus Lupin _

"Well, Potter got mail?" Malfoy's bored voice could be heard. Harry stuffed the letter into his bag. "Come on, let's see. Who would be writing to famous Potter?"

"None of your business, Malfoy." Harry got up from the breakfast table.

Harry left the Great Hall. Lupin was right. If he wanted to change this agonizing situation, he would have to take matters into his own hands. He settled on checking the library after his lessons to eventually run into Hermione. Usually, Muggle Studies was quite fun, but today he couldn't wait for the class to end.

* * *

Harry dashed to the library right after the gong had sounded through the corridors, grabbed a random book and pretended to be brooding about a very important matter. Hermione seemed to be taking more time to appear. Suddenly, she walked in as Ron's companion, who was carrying her bags, through the wooden doors. Both were talking quietly to each other. They weren't aware of him and took a seat on a table on the other side of the room. Harry slammed the book shut, returned it to its former location and walked over to them. He spoke a neutral greeting and waited for their reaction. 

"Oh," Hermione said and looked at him. "Hullo, Harry, how are you?"

Harry just nodded shortly. He didn't want to talk about this and changed the subject. "How is it in Phoenix?" he asked while moving closer and taking a seat.

"Superb, you know. It's really fun, and..." she faltered. "Harry, I'm really sorry. I mean, it's not your fault that you had a fight with us... and... and..." she stammered and didn't look a bit happy. "Without you, it's only half as much fun as back in Gryffindor." Hermione was close to bursting into tears. She turned around to Ron who took her into his consoling arms.

"Hermione, calm down," he soothed. Harry felt rather uncomfortable.

"I'm just still having trouble believing that you're in Slytherin," she sighed. Ron hugged her tight and caressed her hair. Harry tried to find a calming explanation.

"It's not your fault that I'm a Slytherin now, stop worrying. I'm fine."

"Really?" Hermione seemed to relax a little and wiped her tears.

"The hat," Ron said, "surely it must have made a mistake."

Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he replied. "The hat meant to sort me into Slytherin already in first year. It didn't because I asked it not to. This time, I wasn't as successful. But that doesn't mean I'm a different person now."

"Harry, I'm so glad you said that. The others kept saying that you..." Hermione faltered.

"Who says what?"

"Not important," Ron interrupted before Hermione could say another word.

Simon had entered the library and was now approaching the little group. He beckoned Harry over to him, they spoke a few words, then Harry returned to his new old friends.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked looking after Simon.

"Simon Lestrange," Harry explained. "It's almost time for Quidditch practice."

"Lestrange..." Ron murmured.

"I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. He's a nice guy," Harry told him, guessing what direction Ron's thoughts were taking.

"Ron's playing, too," Hermione changed the subject.

Harry glanced at Ron. "Well, then we'll have to meet tomorrow on the pitch." He got up. "I should get a bite to eat. May the better team win. I'll see you around."

* * *

As usual on match-days, Harry woke early on Saturday morning. He knew that the Slytherin Team could win not only today but reclaim the Quidditch Cup this year. At half past eleven, he and Draco shouldered their brooms and walked to the field. 

The teams stepped onto the field - Phoenix in black-coloured gear, sporting a golden phoenix on their back, Slytherin in their accustomed green. All around them, the students cheered. Harry heard the magnified voice of the commentator.

"For Phoenix will be playing: Brocklehurst, Finch-Fletchley, Patil, Quirck, Weasley, Baddock and Whitby. The Slytherin team are: Nott, Pritchard, Montague, Lestrange, Malfoy, Bole and Potter."

Ron and Simon shook hands and the teams kicked off, soaring into the air. Harry took his position way above the other players; Whitby, Phoenix's Seeker, followed his suit. He was only a second year, but was seated on a decent racing broom, which definitely could attempt to out race a Firebolt. Harry kept his eyes out for the Snitch as he listened to the comments below. Slytherin seemed to have taken a good start; Montague had already scored twice before Phoenix found its way into the game and attacked.

"Patil throws the Quaffle to Quirk, Quirk scores! Goal and ten points for Phoenix! Pritchard regains the Quaffle, but... ah... Baddock's well-hit Bludger distracts him, he loses the Quaffle to Finch-Fletchley, and he scores making it twenty-twenty. Patil in possession, watch it! A Bludger hit by Malfoy hits her arm. Baddock shoots another one at Malfoy. Foul... ."

There was no real action for a long time. Harry started to lose his concentration. After two hours of eventless playing, the referee called a break so that the players could warm up on a cup of tea and catch their breaths. Simon instructed his team to play more aggressively. However, apparently the Phoenix team followed a similar strategy, and one foul after another was committed. Ron was lucky and saved most penalties, while Nott did a poor job on his side. Harry still had not caught so much as a glimpse of the Snitch. He needed to hurry, as Phoenix had quite a lead by this time. Finally, he spotted the Snitch no less then ten meters flying underneath him. Whitby and Harry raced towards it in unison. But the Snitch dashed further down, just as Harry stretched his hand out to seize it. Whitby was still dashing towards him, tried to slow down, but frontally crashed into Harry. Harry felt his broom lose height but managed to level it while Whitby smashed into the ground. The game had to be interrupted. Simon yelled at Nott for having his worst day, and Harry's entire body ached from the crash; he must have received a bunch of bruises.

"We will win this match, no matter what," Simon declared as they remounted their brooms.

But the match continued to be just as chaotic as before. Phoenix's lead increased even more, the Snitch had disappeared again, and Slytherin really had to take some action. He noticed Kevin Whitby following him uncertainly. It wasn't long before Harry felt his concentration slip yet again. He should do something before making another mistake out of lack of focus.

This would be the perfect time to try the Wronski-Feint, he thought. It surely won't even be noticed in this bedlam. Harry made sure that Whitby was paying attention to his doings and started a breathtaking dive. Whitby followed him on his heels. But while Harry managed to level his broom shortly before hitting the ground, Whitby had to cope with another bone-splintering crash.

The game was halted once more and Madam Pomfrey had to fix Whitby's broken arm. Ron, who naturally guessed Harry's fake dive, advised his Beaters to keep a closer watch on Harry. This led to Malfoy and Bole reacting with the same measures and even more fouls.

Dusk started to set in when Harry was hit for the umpteenth time by a Bludger and flew a bit higher. Suddenly, he saw the Snitch again - all the way on the other end of the field and he saw Whitby, who was only five meters away from it. He chased after it, knowing chances were almost zero.

But then a Bludger swished past him, pursued by Malfoy, who gave it a hard smack into Whitby's direction. The young player was hit on the shoulder and almost fell of his broom. Harry didn't notice any of this. His eyes were fixed on the tiny golden ball, not wanting to lose sight of it again. Pressed flat onto his broom, he sped towards it, closely chased by Whitby, who had regained control. Both reached for the Snitch, and this time Harry's longer arm was successful. The explosion of the Slytherin students was huge. They had won–two hundred forty to two hundred ten.

This match had been the hardest, most unfair and longest Harry had ever played. He dismounted his broom and joined his team-mates to celebrate their victory.

_TBC_

* * *

**Next**: Tutoring, Rivalry and a Speech. 

**  
Could I bribe you into reviewing? Maybe with a piece of chocolate? ;-)**


	5. A True Slytherin's Speech

**kingprawnsct - **Have a piece! _Who's plotting against Harry?_ Volders, of course! But you have to stick around for more, if you want to know who's doing the plotting in this story…

* * *

**Chapter 5: A True Slytherin's Speech - _Summary :_**_ tutoring, rivalry and a speech_

_Thanks and a huge pile of chocolate bars to my two amazing betas, Vanessa and Sophie._

* * *

After the match, the Slytherins celebrated with an overwhelming party in their Common Room; even Snape stopped by for a very short time. He generously ignored the Confundus Draught and stood away from the original party, occasionally talking with a few older students. 

Harry had seen Hermione only shortly, directly after the match. She had said something about an exciting game but then moved on to Ron and the other players of Phoenix, who were gathered, downcast, at the edge of the field.

Draco walked over, holding two cups of Confundus Draught.

"If you hadn't caught the Snitch, we would have lost."

"And if you hadn't hit Withby with that Bludger, he would have caught it before me… it was a very close call. We need to play much better in the next game against Hufflepuff."

"Oh, we won't have any trouble with Hufflepuff," Draco replied, but Harry resolutely shook his head.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," he countered and took a sip of the potion, which this time tasted like fruitcake and lemon drops. Harry pulled a face and drained the whole contents, something he shouldn't have done. Now the taste irritation became even worse; he felt nauseous, sensing pudding, pickles mixed with fried potatoes and vanilla ice cream. As soon as the nausea weakened, the warm feeling spread through his body once again. He felt heavenly, totally forgetting all the bruises the Bludgers had left on him. He listened to Draco, Crabbe and Goyle talking about the match before he drifted off into the welcoming darkness of sleep.

In his dream, he heard puzzling voices, screams and crying. He seemed to be getting colder and colder, and before Harry's eyes, a Dementor materialized. He frantically tried not to surrender to unconsciousness. His hands anxiously searched his pockets for his wand. He couldn't find it. He heard Simon's voice yelling, "_Expecto Patronum!_" But just before the Dementor vanished, he heard Voldemort's characteristically high-pitched laugh.

When Harry woke up, he was drenched in sweat, though he could not remember anything. The party wasn't over yet; some Slytherins were still gathered around the fire. Harry got up and moved with trembling legs to his dormitory.

* * *

The following days resembled a nightmare. Students of all other Houses faced him with repulsion. The match seemed to have deteriorated the Slytherin reputation. But what really irritated him was that even Hermione was not talking to him. He couldn't tell if it was because of the match, or because she didn't want to face Ron at the same time. Every time he tried to contact Hermione, she was accompanied by her boyfriend, forcing Harry to back off again. 

Right now, he could solely rely on the Slytherins, who, after witnessing him performing the Wronski Feint and catching the Snitch, had finally accepted him. Quidditch practice and the past match had united the team; therefore, Harry had found a substitute for his former friends, though he felt disappointed.

He had a hard time banishing Ron and Hermione from his mind. The memories of their shared heroic deeds of the past years and the current broken relationship hurt him awfully. They had no idea what it felt like being in midst of a bunch of Slytherins, knowing that every single one of them could be your worst enemy. He couldn't trust anyone, except Simon. He was different than the average Slytherin, sometimes looking just as lost as Harry. Yet still, he had managed to create a good status among the Slytherins within a short time.

"Do not trust a Slytherin!" This thought haunted his mind when he sat down with Simon and Fredric on a Thursday afternoon, his face appearing pale and worn out.

"What's frightening you, Harry?" Harry eyed Frederic suspiciously. Simon, who interpreted Harry's glance correctly, shoved the other boy away.

"Harry, you don't look good at all. What's up?" Simon addressed the obvious, setting a fixed stare on Harry's eyes.

"I …don't know…" Harry replied honestly. He really wasn't sure. He had a hunch, but couldn't express it in words.

"Is it about Ron and Hermione?" Simon inquired knowingly and Harry silently lowered his head.

"If this is about your old friends, I won't be able to help you." Simon patted him on the shoulder. "I hardly know them. You'll have to talk to them yourself."

Harry nodded. Simon was right, after all, but just how should he handle the situation? Turning to leave, Simon called him back.

"Harry, there's a problem with the upcoming potion we mean to brew. Some of the ingredients are almost gone. I would have to go down to Hogsmeade to collect more, but the next visit is scheduled for a date after your examination."

"What about our appointment today after practice?"

"That's still on."

"I'll think about how to obtain the missing supplies," Harry said determinedly. "I'll see you on the field, then, got some homework left to finish."

* * *

Harry went to the library to check some facts for Herbology. After dinner, he fetched his Firebolt from the dormitory and ran down to the Quidditch Field. Malfoy, Simon, Frederic and Graham were already present. 

"Practice is cancelled," Draco exclaimed as Harry approached.

"Why?" Harry asked, his eyes travelling around. All his teammates looked flustered. Frederic looked up to explain.

"Nott and Bole can't come. They are in the hospital wing."

"What happened?"

"They met a few acquaintances after dinner, Baddock and Whitby to be precise." They were both players for Phoenix, but Harry still didn't catch on.

"How thick can you be, Potter?" Draco spit venomously. Harry shook his head, confused. "Baddock and Whitby duelled with Nott and Bole. Do I also have to puzzle out for you who won?"

"No," Harry sighed, "but why?"

"There's always been the competition between Slytherin and Gryffindor," Simon reasoned quietly. "I'm afraid now we will soon fight with Phoenix as well."

They all stared at Simon, but nobody knew what to say. After sitting in silence for a while, Simon was the first to get up.

"Practice is over; let's get back to the castle."

Harry picked up his Firebolt and followed Simon down to the dungeons. They went to the Potions classroom right away to check on the potion Harry was currently brewing. Professor Snape had allowed them to store the simmering mixtures there in between lessons. He was still seated at his desk reading through a pile of parchment when the two of them entered the area.

"Already finished with practice, Mr. Lestrange?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

Simon instructed Harry to fetch the cauldron and re-heat the potion, then he took a seat opposite Snape.

"It was cancelled," he explained shortly. Snape looked at him questioningly. Simon seemed to expand his account of the events further, but Harry was occupied with other worries. The cauldron containing his Fortune Potion was extremely heavy. He tried to carry it to the fireplace, but didn't manage alone. Finally, he dared to use a Levitating Charm and carefully set it in place. If everything went all right, he might be able to give it the finishing touches today. He had learnt a lot with Simon, and though he was a strict teacher, it had been quite fun. He glanced over to Snape and Simon but couldn't understand what they were saying. He wasn't even sure if they were talking at all. Shortly afterwards, Snape rose from his chair.

"I don't intend to hold you off any longer," he exclaimed and gave Harry a look he didn't dare to interpret further.

While passing the cauldron, Snape took his chances and peaked into it. He stopped and observed its contents suspiciously.

"If you're helping too much, he won't be able to pass his exams – again, Mr. Lestrange."

"Sir, he brewed this completely on his own," Simon replied honestly and moved closer to the cauldron as well.

Snape nodded. "If you don't mess it up now, this could be an E." The shadows of a forced smile were almost visible on his cold, hardly-moving lips. Then he left the classroom.

Surprised about the unexpected praise, Harry still couldn't feel happy about it. There were too many questions burning inside him, waiting to be spelled out, but he didn't know where to start.

"You should concentrate on the potion," Simon interrupted his thoughts. Harry nodded and reached for the box of boomslang skin. He spread it on a wooden board and started to scrape off the scales.

"Tell me," Harry hesitantly begun, "why do you think there will be more trouble between the Houses?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't really thought about it yet."

"Why was the fifth House introduced?" Simon asked.

"To reduce the amount of students in the classes," Harry said while adding the sheds to the potion and slowly stirring it.

"And?"

"And what?" Harry gave it some thought. Something stirred in the back of his head. "They are meant to fight Voldemort," he added.

"And what is Slytherin known for?

"For the amount of witches and wizards who are committed to the dark side." He began to understand. "But that's outr…" he started to say apprehensively.

"Oh, come on. Stop it," Simon interrupted. "It will come. You actually started it last year with the DA, and it won't be long until the fighting inside the school will unfold, before the Slytherins can join Voldemort. You were just the same only a little while ago. Look at your quarrels with Draco."

Harry thought about Simon's words and silently added a few drops of arachnotoxin to the boiling liquid. A rosy steam circled out of the cauldron, and Harry stirred it, concentrating.

"But last year, I would have never dreamt of being able to chat comfortably with any Slytherin like I can do with you. You have to acknowledge the differences."

"Harry, first of all, you didn't know the Slytherins last year and you put them all together in one cauldron with Draco Malfoy," Simon pointed out. His gaze was cool and calculating, as he looked at Harry. "Second, I am as much of a Slytherin as you are." Harry felt embarrassed.

"Sorry, you probably didn't imagine the hat's decision, either," Harry apologized. The steam had ceased and Harry extinguished the fire.

"Done," he declared. Simon nodded in agreement.

"Good, very good," he praised and scooped some of it into a bottle. He Vanished the rest with a flick of his wand. He carefully placed the bottle into some mechanical equipment. Harry had seen him use it before. It showed the accuracy of the ingredients of a potion as well as how useful and effective the potion would be. While the machine slowly started to emit whistling sounds and analyze the liquid, Simon turned back to Harry.

"Did you come up with an idea of how to get the missing ingredients?"

"Mmh, not really," Harry replied thoughtfully, "but there's a secret passage which leads directly into Hogsmeade, ending in Honeydukes."

"That's great. Then I could go Friday afternoon and buy everything so you can start Saturday with one of the health solutions."

Harry described to Simon in detail how to use the passage and warned him to be careful, it was the only way out Filch didn't know of yet, and it should stay that way.

* * *

The following Friday, the students of Slytherin once more appreciated the effects of Simon's special drink in the secure surroundings of their Common Room. Simon himself, however, was on his way to Hogsmeade. The past days had been calm, Nott and Bole had been released from the hospital wing two days earlier, and Quidditch practice was back on the schedule. The mood was relaxed and the cauldron quite empty when Malfoy rose from his seat. 

"Hey, listen! Everyone!" Draco stepped onto a chair while the crowd looked up, surprised. "We can not tolerate this any longer. Why do you think Slytherins are said to be bad and treated like dirt in the gutter?" He appeared slightly drunk and had trouble maintaining his shaky position upon the chair, but he continued his speech nonetheless. "Because everyone else has forgotten the old ways. It doesn't matter anymore to be a true wizard, pure-blooded and noble. We are being forced to hide from Muggles and cover up our traces. How much longer can we bear this?" Draco took another sip from his cup and stepped on a table, a slightly more stable base than the squashy upholstery of the chair. Every single ear in the room was turned to listen to his words in admiration. Harry alone turned his back, staring into the crackling fire; still, he silently took note of the exclamations of the Malfoy heir.

"…It's time that we speak up and refuse to accept these conditions any longer. Time's ready to start the fight. Now it's our turn, our chance. We can't tolerate second-class wizards and witches from Muggle families among us, who take up educational places to later use their second-rate skills in our world. That's why I say: Let's fight together and ask our Master to support us in this. If we want to re-establish the old ways, we can be assured of the Dark Lord's help…" Draco hesitated as Simon entered the Common Room, but then continued with a confident voice. "Declare your solidarity now, only then we can achieve the strength to bring Hogwarts back to its roots… ." Draco's voice deceased as Simon clutched his collar and dragged him off the table.

"You've said enough," he hissed and pushed him away, disgustedly. Draco tumbled and fell to the floor.

"Simon? You of all people say that?"

"Shut up and piss off," Simon threatened and addressed the crowded students. "I coincidently overheard today that a student of Phoenix has been attacked, and I highly suspect that the culprit is currently in this Common Room." Simon paused and looked to the present students. "Lately, there hasn't been a single day without a fight between a Slytherin and a Phoenix. The teachers will try to find out who is behind these attacks and what's going on inside our House. We cannot afford to have speeches like this!" Simon shot one sharp look at Draco and his cronies and then left for the dormitories.

* * *

Harry had had a little bit too much of the Confundus Draught himself and couldn't quite understand what his fellow Slytherins were saying after Simon had left. He continuously stared into the fiery flames, maybe in hope they would provide him with answers. At some point he must have fallen asleep. Suddenly, someone patted him lightly on his shoulder. 

"It's time…" a voice whispered.

"What…" Harry could only mumble in his sleep. When he finally opened his eyes, Simon was kneeling in front of him.

"Everyone else has gone to bed. You should, too."

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"Almost three."

Harry straightened up; now he was wide-awake.

"Simon, why did it take you so long in Hogsmeade?"

"Not important," Simon calmed him. "I met a former classmate; she left school last year."

"Well," Harry said standing up, "I guess I should get to bed. When should we meet for potions tomorrow?"

"Not before lunch, I guess," Simon said with a smile.

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke once again with the terrible, throbbing pain in his head, and once again he regretted the luring taste of the Confundus Potion. He was very tired and barely dragged himself down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. He was late and hardly anyone was occupying the House tables. He sat down at the empty Slytherin table; he knew he had to eat something, even though the now-common sickness persisted. He started on a jam toast when his glance fell on the latest issue of the _Daily Prophet._

_**New concept for Azkaban failed**_

_The concept, only established two months ago during an emergency meeting of the Ministry's Crisis Committee, threatens to fail terribly. To prevent another mass outbreak of still-imprisoned Death Eaters, the Dementors were strengthened by a group of specially-trained wizards and witches._

_Yesterday, after the end of the testing phase, most employees declared their refusal to continue their work with the Dementors. Many reported independently about their suffering under the working conditions. Apparently, the Dementors do not differentiate between prisoners and co-workers._

_Three days ago, the first wizard was brought to St. Mungo's, experiencing distress and closing in on insanity, causing the crisis squad to meet again and discuss further actions._

After reading the article, Harry regretted that he had refused to read it for such a long time. Apparently, the last three months had brought many changes. This crisis squad must have been established after Voldemort's return, but the article didn't give enough information about its role.

Harry got up and left the Great Hall. He searched his way back to the Common Room through the long corridors. But before he reached it, he met Malfoy, most certainly in company of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Potter, tell me, did you like my little speech last night?" Malfoy grinned.

Harry didn't respond to this, but rather attempted to pass the group but they blocked the way.

"Malfoy, please let me through," Harry demanded annoyed but still polite.

"Admit it. These were completely new ideas for you. You listened!"

"Leave me in peace!" Harry yelled at Draco. "I don't want to have anything to do with this at all!" But there was no reaction. Harry lunged for his wand. If Draco didn't want to clear the way voluntarily, he would have to help him.

"You want a duel?" Draco sneered, bringing out his own wand and crouching into a defensive position.

"If there's no other way…" Harry trailed off to shout, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Draco was now unarmed and Harry thought of taking advantage and hexing him into oblivion and maybe even back. He liked the idea, but before he could decide upon which curses to use, he was hit by _'Petrificus Totalus'_ and his rigid body fell onto the cold floor. Malfoy was holding Goyle's wand.

"Looks like you forgot that there are three opponents," Malfoy spewed, full of scorn, stepping closer to Harry.

"Stop it!" Harry heard Simon's angry voice from somewhere down the corridor, hurrying to them.

"Draco, didn't I try to tell you, explain to you, why you need to leave him alone?" His tone of voice sounded threatening and his eyes were fixed upon Draco's.

Finally, Simon turned to Harry and freed him form the curse. Harry struggled into an upright position while Simon turned his attention to Draco and forcefully pushed the younger Slytherin into an empty classroom.

"We need to talk."

_TBC_

* * *

**Next:** Troubling exams, overheard thoughts, and a disappearance. 

**R&R? - R&R! **


	6. Former Friends, Former Enemies

**Chapter 6 – Former Friends, Former Enemies_ - Summary_**_: Overheard thoughts, a disappearance and some more confusion_

_  
Thanks to Vanessa and Sophi for their patience and their incredible work._

* * *

Harry rushed to his dormitory. He hated Malfoy. Why did he have to be in the same house as Malfoy? Even worse, why did they have to share a dormitory with Malfoy? Harry didn't want to think about what could - and possibly would - have happened, if Simon hadn't intervened. He hoped dearly that Simon would teach Malfoy a lesson in that classroom, maybe hex him into the next century. 

Harry tried to calm down. He sat by the window and stared outside. After successfully banning all thoughts of torture he could use on Malfoy, he started another round of studying Potions. There were only a few days left before he had to re-sit the exam, but he was feeling much more confident about it.

* * *

Harry spent the next few days exclusively with his Potions books, while every free minute was immediately occupied by practical exercises under Simon's supervision. 

He wasn't feeling too well, often not sleeping long enough, and thus became increasingly bad tempered, he didn't feel like companionship either. Every time someone addressed him in the corridors, he was likely to explode into their faces, no matter who it was. He even upset Hermione with his mood, something he regretted, since he actually meant to regain contact and remain friends with her.

The only exception was Simon, whose calm and considerate attitude prevented him from further anger outbreaks during their private lessons.

* * *

The OWL re-sit examination day happened to be a chilly Saturday. Since the weather changed two days ago, it had been raining non-stop. 

The day before, Harry went to sleep early, and awoke the morning of his exam feeling surprisingly awake and rested. During breakfast he discussed a few of the more difficult potions with Simon, which were likely to come up during the written part. Then, he made his way to a classroom on the third floor, where about twenty other students were already waiting in front of a door. In a far corner, he noticed Ron standing alone with closed eyes, mumbling silently names and dates that he'd no doubt need for the History of Magic exam.

Neville was standing next to Parvati, desperately trying to involve her into a conversation. He was very pale and trembled nervously. He was, just like Harry, facing a re-sit in Potions. But Harry didn't feel much better than Neville, from the look of him. He was just as nervous, if not worse. What if he experienced a Black out? The thought of being degraded to the basic class hovered in the back of his head. Snape had his principles he wouldn't abandon for nothing in life. He only allowed students he thought to be competent and proficient in his NEWT-class, leaving those he believed to be lazy and dumb for the basic course. Harry feared to have to endure more and worse ways of Snape's humiliations.

Professor McGonagall shoved her way through the students and opened the classroom door. Inside they found small tables, one for each student, marked with their names. Harry found his place and sat down. While McGonagall elaborated on the procedure, he nervously wiped his sweaty hands on his robes. Professor McGonagall raised her wand and a bright blue flash lightened the room. A role of parchment, ink and a feather quill appeared in front of each student. Harry studied the questions on the first parchment. They weren't easy, but he had a general idea of what was being asked.

"What are the characteristics of _Mycelium aquaris_ and how do you obtain it?" he murmured barely audible. He searched his cognitive cells for the accurate definition, but _Mycelium_ had always been difficult for him to understand, especially how to acquire it. Depending on its very dissimilar types, there were naturally different ways to obtain it. Unfortunately, he had no idea what_aquaris_ meant.

After a huge effort he managed a tolerable answer, he took a shot at the other questions, which he was able to complete with satisfying answers. When he finished writing the last answer, he returned to the first question, knowing he had missed an important aspect. But he still couldn't recall the exact meaning. The more time passed, the more anxious he got.

_'Simon, you're not around when needed,_' he thought desperately. _'What's Mycelium aquaris again?_' he thought frantically, trying to recall Simon's words.

_'Mycelium aquaris is a water fungus,' _he heard Simon's voice in his head.

Or was it? Or did he just concentrate hard enough on one of their lessons, so he remembered it this vividly. But he couldn't marvel about that now, he had received the cue he needed, and started to write furiously about the tricky ways of getting hold of the herb in question.

Glancing up, he realized that he still had a decent amount of time left to revise his answers. While rereading his recipe for the Draught of Peace, he sensed Simon's voice again.

_'Check the ingredients, hellebore is missing.'_

And truly, helleborewas not listed in his answer. While the last grains of sand fell, he corrected his answer and checked the remaining questions, but couldn't detect any more mistakes, nor did he hear anymore advice from Simon.

"Time's up, put your quills aside, I will now collect your parchments," Professor McGonagall announced. Harry heard the moans of a few students and glanced at Neville who reluctantly put down his quill.

"All students who also need to re-sit the practical exams will return to this room at half past two. You will receive the results of the written examinations in two weeks time."

* * *

Harry left the room, intending to go down to the Great Hall and grab a quick bite for lunch, when he noticed Hermione standing in the hallway. 

"How was Potions?" she asked, her eyes fixed upon the doorway. But Harry only nodded, he had a good feeling about it, he could have scored an E, if not an O.

"Are you waiting for Ron?" asked Harry, following her glance.

"Ron and Neville. The two of them were ever so nervous this morning."

"Is Ron still mad at me? Because of the Quidditch match?"

"No, I don't think he is mad at you at all, he is …" but what Ron really was, Harry never found out. Ron and Neville chose that moment to appear in the doorway. Hermione quickly jogged over to them and hugged Ron. Harry watched them shortly and decided to leave.

"Harry." Hermione's voice held him back.

"What is it?"

"Well, I thought, maybe we could meet up sometime? How about next weekend? We could go to Hogsmeade together."

"I might be going with Simon and Frederic," Harry replied, "but I'll think about it."

"You mean to go to Hogsmeade with that Lestrange bloke?" Ron asked with an air of anger in his voice. Harry shot him a livid glance, but nodded.

"Lestrange?" Neville jumped, obviously frightened, his flushed cheeks losing their colour.

"Don't worry, he's okay," Harry tried to explain, "I owe him many thanks. He was a great teache…"

"Harry. He's a Lestrange!" Ron argued heatedly. "You can't possibly trust him!"

"Yes, I do. Simon is different, he's not a Malfoy for starters," Harry defended his new friend.

"But his parents," Neville started again, by now his ashen face made a decent match to Snape's customary pale features. "They… _tortured_ my parents."

"Yes, his parents. Not him." He took a deep breath, before saying, "Just look at Sirius. A family full of dark wizards, and he turned out alright, too." Turning on his heel, he finally left for a short, silent meal, before retreating to his dormitory. He could understand Neville's attitude, he probably would have reacted the same way. He could imagine how tough it must be for him, but Ron and Hermione? They should have less biased views.

* * *

Harry hoped against hope, that Snape would not be present at the practical examinations. Snape's menacing aura was the main factor he lacked concentration during his lessons. On his way to the classroom, he ran into Simon, who walked the rest of the way with him, asking questions about the written part. 

"So, how did it go?"

"Great, I knew basically everything, except…" Harry remembered the strange incident during the exam and faltered.

"Except how to obtain Mycelium aquaris?" Simon finished calmly.

"How do you know?" Harry stopped in his tracks and looked at Simon, astonished.

"While doing homework in the library, I suddenly I thought I heard your voice, but I wasn't sure about it."

"But you answered. I heard yours in my head, too."

"Harry, you don't happen to be skilled in Legilimency?"

"Legilimency?" Harry repeated taken aback, thinking of his disastrous Occlumency lessons with Snape. "Er.. I doubt it."

"Have you ever sensed another's emotions?"

Harry thought about his connection to Voldemort. How he was forced to experience strong emotions the Dark Wizard felt, how he dreamt about important things happening that had caused Voldemort to feel very happy or angry. Did that count? He looked up at Simon and nodded.

"But isn't Legilimency the influencing of someone else's thoughts?

"Yes, it is that as well. Intentionally influencing thoughts is a hard piece of work and requires a lot more than what happened today, the signal you send out earlier was of rather unintentional nature."

Harry meant to ask him many more question but they had arrived in front if the classroom. To avoid people overhearing them, he decided to drop it for now.

"We should continue later," Simon stated, observing the students waiting in line, his eyes were caught by Neville who was anxiously watching the pair. He turned to leave.

"Good Luck."

"That must have been Lestrange, right?" Neville inquired when Harry approached. Harry only nodded, not knowing what else to say. He could tell that Neville felt anti-sympathetic towards Simon, of not hatred.

"Come on. You don't even know him. He's a great guy, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't even consider taking this re-sit."

"Maybe, but he's also a Slytherin, and the child of… well, think about who his parents are." Neville replied, making a sour face.

"Well, I'm a Slytherin now, too, but that doesn't make me a bad person, does it?" Harry started to feel annoyed, despite his knowledge of Neville's past, regarding to his parents.

"I'm not against you, but Simon's…"Neville shook his head.

"Ok, whatever. Believe what you will, but accept that he's my friend." Harry turned around, he needed a clear head for the exam. He would have to deal with this later.

* * *

Professor McGonagall opened the door at half-past, sharp. The teachers responsible for the corresponding subjects would be supervising the practical exams, meaning Harry now had three hours of Snape's icy company to look forward to. Clad in his usual deep black robes, Snape led Harry and four other unfortunate students down to the dungeons into their usual classroom, which was way too huge for only five students, but had the positive affect that none of them was able to glance at the others work. Not that any of them would have dared to let their eyes stray beyond their respective working areas. Harry took position behind a cauldron, waiting for instructions. There was a small cabinet holding various ingredients beside it. Snape gave them instructions to brew the Fortuna Draught, a potion Harry knew so well, his luck seemed almost ironic. The Professor lazily sat back and ordered them to start. 

Harry ignited the fire beneath his cauldron and begun to cut up roots. Occasionally, he looked up at Snape, but the pale man showed no visible reaction, though watching them closely and taking note of all their movements. Time passed and after adding the final ingredient, Harry stirred the potion counter clockwise until the expected slightly pink steam curled its way towards the ceiling. He quickly extinguished the fire, now stirring the potion in rapid movements until the steam diminished and with a faint plop he pulled his wand out. It was done. Harry filled a phial marked with his name and set it on the table up front

"Sure you're done, Potter?" Snape smirked at him.

"Yes, sir," he answered confidently.

"Very well, you may leave."

Harry scurried out, happy with his performance and even happier that Simon had insisted on brewing this particular potion during their lessons. Now, he'd have two weeks until he found out about his grades, and if it wasn't for the words he'd had with his former house-mates, he could have been a very happy boy indeed.

* * *

During the following days, Harry observed many people talking about him behind his back, especially whenever he was seen around Simon. Even his 'former' friends, like Ernie and Neville, Parvati and Seamus stuck their heads together, whispering and shooting glances in their direction. The only exception was Hermione. She confirmed that there was lots of talk in their Common Room, but also that other students were concerned about his new pals. Though, she admitted talking to Terry about Simon and that she was glad he finally found a friend who successfully animated him into studying, something she'd failed to achieve for five years.  
Since Hermione and Ron would be visiting Hogsmeade together, and Ron still bore a grudge against Simon, so Harry decided to stick to his decision and spend the afternoon with Frederic and Simon.

* * *

During lunch on the Friday before their next Hogsmeade weekend Harry noticed that Simon wasn't present. Actually, he hadn't seen him the entire morning. Frederic had no clue as to Simon's whereabouts either, but when asked divulged that Simon often gave the teachers the slip and made private trips to Hogsmeade without anyone's knowledge. By next morning, Simon still hadn't returned. 

Frederic joined Ethan and some other seven-years, so Harry was left to stroll down to Hogsmeade on his own. After buying an enormous bag of sweets from _Honeydukes_, Harry stood crunching some cockroach clusters in front of _Darwish and Banges_, studying their special offers when he made out Frederics voice.

"…we still have a bit of time left, Simon won't be meeting us in front of the _Three Broomsticks_ until noon…" Turning around, Harry looked directly at Frederic who halted, quickly suggesting to his friends that they pay a swift visit to the owlery, before hurrying away.

Harry waited until the three of them were out of sight, then darted to the village pub, pushed the door open and hid behind a large potted plant, panting heavily. Something was definitely wrong.

It took him awhile to scan the crowd, but soon he noticed Simon sitting with a stranger. Simon was talking to the other person vigorously, while the other one kept shaking his or her head. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, they were too far away, nor could he see the other person's face, who sat with his back turned to the door. Harry crept closer to the bar and ordered a butterbeer. Sipping it slowly, he inched even slower towards them. Simon's features were filled with bitterness. The stranger got up, apparently saying something to Simon and turned around, allowing Harry a plain view of his face. It was Snape. Harry turned around abruptly, pretending to be interested in a flyer about an up-coming Halloween event at the pub.

"Well, sneaking around again, Potter?" Snape smirked. "I suggest you better be present at the Halloween feast at Hogwarts or I shall have the pleasure of awarding you a detention you won't forget easily."

"Of course, sir, I was just…" But Harry didn't have to come up with an apology, Snape had already swept passed him. He looked for Simon, but the older boy had vanished as well, Pondering about the meaning of this meeting, Harry decided he'd have to confront Simon later the day and slowly sauntered back to the castle.

* * *

But Simon feigned being busy and avoided talking to Harry all afternoon. Becoming impatient, Harry addressed Simon while the other was brewing the weekly dose of Confundus Draught. 

"I saw you with Snape earlier."

"I met him there by accident, he asked me where I went off to yesterday." Simon seemed a bit uncertain.

"And? Where did you go to?" Harry wouldn't give up effortlessly.

"Can you keep a secret?" Harry had no clue whatsoever what direction this was taking but nodded.

"I met my girlfriend. She graduated last year and I had to see her again. I went to her place last night, and it got a little late, anyway I didn't feel like returning to Hogwarts so I wrote Frederic to meet me at the Three Broomsticks. Unfortunately, Snape noticed my disappearance, and when I ran in to him today, I had no other choice but to explain." Simon said all this without looking at Harry once, busily stirring the potion. But when he finished he looked up, apprehensively.

Harry, who was still quite sceptical, decided to leave it at that for now, sat in a corner and waited for Simon to finish the potion. After awhile, Simon started to hand out cupfuls of the by now much desired Draught. He held one cup out to Harry and took a seat next to him.

"Don't be mad, but I have a lot on my hands right now. Snape gave me detention for the next couple evenings and wants to keep an eye on me, so I won't give him the slip again."

Harry nodded and took a sip. It tasted different, not as good as usual. Pulling a face he looked questioningly at Simon.

"I worked on the ingredients, I worked on the ingredients. It doesn't taste as good, but the efficacy has improved greatly."

Maybe Simon's definition of 'improved efficacy varied greatly from Harry's, because after only a short time, Harry's brain started to rebel, he felt hot an cold at the same time, he tasted basically all flavours he had ever come across in his life, all colours became dazzling and the outlines of people and furniture became slurry. He closed his eyes, finally finding relief in the welcoming, black eternity of sleep.

* * *

Awoken by a sharp pain in his scar, Harry opened his eyes. It was dark around him, he was still half lying half sitting on a chair in the Common Room. Only the flames painted their pictures onto the walls, permitting him to see the mess all around him. He tried to concentrate on the pain, but his brain was still lulled by the effects of the Confundus Draught. Closing his eyes again, the image of Snape sitting behind a desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment crystallized in front of his inner eye. Suddenly, Snape gripped his forearm tightly and hissed an inaudible curse. He quickly got up, pulled a deep black rope from a wardrobe and hurried out the door. 

The pain slowly faded. Harry's first thought was to inform Dumbledore, so he slowly left his chair, but his feeble attempts to climbed the packs of messily scattered chairs, books and some drowsy bodies failed soon enough, due to the miscommunication of his limbs and his drowsy brain. Thus, he ended up clambering to a near-by couch and falling asleep instantly.

_TBC_

* * *

**Next:** Yet another disappearance and a past revealed.

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**  
If you don't review, the next chapter will not be accessible for you. Seriously. :)**


	7. A Secret revealed

_Das Wort ist der Mantel, in dem der Sinn  
Schweigend auf seine Entkleidung wartet._  
(Goethes Erben)

* * *

_Thanks to my lovely beta, Vanessa._

* * *

**Chapter 7: A Secret Revealed - _Summary:_**_ Yet another disappearance exposes someone's secret._

By Sunday morning Harry was convinced that his dream had only been another side-effect of Simon's potion. He wasn't even certain his scar had actually hurt, so what was the point of going to Dumbledore?

However, when Monday came, Harry had reason to believe that he had indeed experienced another one of his visions. He was standing with his fellow classmates in front of the door to the dungeon that usually hosted their potions classes. The bell had rung minutes ago, but Snape was nowhere in sight. Snape had never been late before, he usually opened the door on the dot ushering the students inside, not wasting a second of his lesson. Harry's mind wandered to his apparent vision, feeling uneasy and wondering.

The other students started to whisper, already making up reasons for Snape's lack of presence. Harry glimpsed at Hermione and Neville, who kept checking if the Potions Master wasn't being held up around the corner by a student or another teacher.

_'One, I believe has left me forever, he will have to die. One to cowardly to return, he will pay of course.'_

Suddenly, Voldemort's words spoken at the graveyard popped into Harry's head, causing him to stand rigid. What, if Snape had gone to Voldemort, which he very well may have done. What, if Voldemort had a hunch of Snape's position as a spy? Was that the reason for Harry's vision? It wasn't like him to be worrying about Snape, but what if Voldemort had found out where Snape's true loyalties lay and forced him to reveal important, fatal information about the Order and its members...then there was a lot at stake. Or, even worse, were Snape's true loyalties with Voldemort? Did he maybe finally leave their side and told all the information he possessed voluntarily?

"I guess someone should go and check the teacher's room." Harry heard Hermione speak up loudly.

"Yeah, I'll go," he replied quickly, before anyone else could step in. He had this nasty feeling that something bad had happened and he needed to see Dumbledore.

* * *

Harry climbed one of the many stairs, questioning his memory of the dream. When he reached the Teachers Room, he was startled to see quite a few students form all years and houses gathered in front of it. He recognized Ethan Skinner and addressed him. 

"Hey, what's going on?"

"No idea just got here myself looking for Professor Flitwick. Looks like everyone is wondering where their teachers are. They seem to be having a meeting."

A few minutes later, the oak doors opened end expelled the teachers onto the hallway. Each indicating their respective students to follow them back to the classrooms. Harry stood on tiptoes, but still couldn't spot Professor Snape. Suddenly, the hallway had emptied, leaving Harry standing lonely in front of the door. Slowly, he advanced, and peeking inside, he wasn't surprised to find Dumbledore sitting alone at a huge table, stowing a bit of parchment into his pocket.

"Harry. Looking for your Professor?"

Harry nodded and scanned the room, but still found no trace of the Potions Master.

"Come on in."

Harry stood in the doorway, trying to decide what to do. He still didn't want to talk to Dumbledore, the pain of losing Sirius, his doubts about Dumbledore, the prophecy, his anger… it all came rushing back, leaving the missing teacher forgotten.

Something kept him glued to the spot. He couldn't leave, didn't want to. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Where's Snape?"

Dumbledore turned around, twinkling at him through his half-moon spectacles. 'He's done it again,' Harry thought and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"Professor Snape, Harry. And I don't know. Have a seat." Dumbledore moved back to his former chair, indicating another squashy arm chair for Harry to settle down on.

'No.' Harry thought angrily and turned to stare into the burning fireplace instead.

"Professor Snape is on a mission for the Order," Dumbledore continued.

"He's with Voldemort," Harry interrupted him. "I saw him." Harry, still mad at Dumbledore, didn't really want to tell him. Talking to someone sure would be nice, but couldn't it be someone else? Dumbledore's calm voice was unnerving, but wound its way into his distressed mind anyway.

"Tell me about it."

"I didn't actually see him…" he faltered. Dreams about Voldemort were one thing, but dreams about Snape?

"Keep going."

Harry looked down onto the floor, examining the tiles and biting his lip. He didn't want to explain why he hadn't came forward earlier by mentioning the Confundus Draught.

"My scar hurt…and instead of Voldemort I saw Snape. He was in his office. It seemed that the mark on his arm burned. He left his office. That's it."

"When did this happen?" Dumbledore looked at him curiously.

"Two nights ago," Harry replied, not daring to look at the headmaster, he quickly changed the subject. "What could it mean? Did Voldemort influence my thoughts again?"

"I can only speculate." Dumbledore shrugged. "I assume that since both of you bear a connection to Voldemort, it is quite possible that you can perceive each others emotions."

"So, Snape could sense when Voldemort tries to…" he broke off looking for the right word. "contact me?"

"Quite possible."

Harry fell silent, once again watching the orange-red flames playing with the bricks. He unconsciously twisted his fingers. There was more he wanted to know, but his curiosity was not enough to beat his pride just yet.

"The Sorting is troubling you," Dumbledore stated boldly.

'Sure, it's reason for everything,' Harry thought bitterly, aloud he said, "Why was I sorted into Slytherin?"

"Please, Harry, take a seat." This time, Harry accepted the offer and sat back in a rather comfortable wooden chair.

"I hoped you would have learned something about the different Houses by now, or rather, about the people living within them."

"All Slytherins are on the straight track to become Death Eaters," Harry declared insolently, almost jumped out of his chair, heading straight for the door. "What am I doing here, this is ridiculous."

"I hope you didn't forget our chat of a few years ago."

"It's our choices that show what we truly are.'" Dumbledore's voice haunted through his thoughts.

"But I didn't _chose_ Slytherin. Why doesn't anyone around here get that?" Harry fought back stubbornly.

"I've been at this school for many a year, and with time I began to see each House in various ways. There were students from all Houses who later turned to the Dark Side and became Death Eaters, Pettigrew, for example, was a Gryffindor. Then there were also good, caring students who were placed in Slytherin and later fought on the good side."

"So?" Harry waved Dumbledore's explanation away with an impatient gesture of his hand. "Most of the Death Eaters are still Slytherins."

"But only due to a simple reason." Dumbledore smiled down at him, apparently not intending to elaborate further.

'Right. A simple reason. They were ignorant morons,' Harry thought vigorously.

Dumbledore, who had no hard time guessing Harry's judgment, interrupted his thoughts quickly.

"Since there are no Muggleborns in their House, Slytherins hardly ever get the opportunity to actually meet Muggleborns, get to know and understand them. This only maintains the prejudices. Voldemort uses this to his advantage, employing propaganda and promises to gain more and more followers. Would you like a lemon drop?"

Harry turned his gaze to Dumbledore but denied the offer resting in the outstretched hand in front of him. He had calmed down a bit, Dumbledore's elaboration made sense.

"You're getting along well with Simon Lestrange." Dumbledore once again invaded his musings. "Consider his relatives. The moment he entered this castle, he had a hard time fighting against prejudices. As far as I'm informed, he even tried to talk his cousin into changing his views."

Harry furrowed an eyebrow. "His cousin?"

"Mr. Malfoy. Sure you wouldn't like a lemon drop?"

'Simon and Malfoy were related. Of course,' Harry thought, remembering the tapestry he had viewed with Sirius in the Black House. 'Bellatrix Lestrange was Narcissa Malfoy's sister, he tried to recall if he had seen Simon's name on it as well, but couldn't picture the image clear enough. A determined knock on the door, announce Malfoy's presence.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, what's your inquiry?"

Draco produced his trademark sneer, while his eyes checked the room. "Where's Professor Snape?"

"Oops, I totally forgot. Come with me, both of you." Dumbledore stood and walked through the heavy doors and down to the dungeons.

All students were still gathered in front of the classroom, no one daring to leave, just because their teacher had already missed more than half of the lesson. As Dumbledore approached the group, their whispers ceased.

"Unfortunately Potions won't take place today. I can not provide a satisfying explanation to you, but Professor Snape has urgent business elsewhere. You may use this time for your own leisure."

The students grabbed their books, shouldered their bags and left the corridor with hushed voices, already speculating what the feared Potions Master could possibly be up to. When Dumbledore and Harry stood alone, the Headmaster addressed Harry again.

"I will now have to find a substitute for Professor Snape. But keep in mind, it doesn't matter in which House you've been placed, or who your relatives are. All that really counts is what you make out of it. You have enough experience to handle your situation. I'm certain that you will find your place."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and returned to his Common Room, he still had some time left before his next lesson would begin.

* * *

By lunch the whole school was speculating about Snape's absence. Since next to him only Ron, Hermione and Neville knew about Snape's position as a spy, the students came up excuses that became extremely far-fetched. Colin Creevey believed to know that Snape had invented a Potion which turned him invisible, but was still missing the counter-potion. Another student exclaimed that Snape must have finally offered his services to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, seeing that he always wore black and had a tendency to torture students, but then blew up a potion in the Dark Lord's face and was now on the run.

* * *

Two days later, Potions was taught by a new, very young Professor. She only graduated three years ago. Actually, the students should be happy that Snape was no longer around to pester them, but they soon realized that Professor Peony — though in a very different way — wasn't an easy person either. 

Already in their first lesson, the students learn that it was a crime to use the 'poor' creatures and the 'innocent' plants and herbs as ingredients. With Hermione as her only audience, Professor Peony's lecture went on and on and on. The other students, however, had contest and whose creation was the 'most colourful' or tasted best. Only when Professor Peony talked about a Confundus Draught in their fourth lesson, did the Slytherins calm down and follow her talk intently. Sure enough, later that evening could these students be found gathered around Simon, who elaborated the changes he had applied to his version of the Draught.

* * *

The next Potion lesson came and they were finally allowed to brew the Confundus Draught themselves. In the turmoil of setting up cauldrons and looking for ingredients, Malfoy made a few unnoticed alterations to the instructions on the board, which went unnoticed by everyone but Harry, who couldn't resist the temptation either and silently grinned. 

While the students begun cutting the first roots, Peony chattered on about the bad influence of certain charms on plants, not caring what they were doing. Close to the end of the lesson, she accidentally caught Neville adding Atropine syrup to the bubbling liquid in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"I…uhm…I," Neville stammered, his eyes jerking to the board. "I followed all the instructions."

"But there's no Atropine on my recipe. The Potion should be colourless, not green." With a flick of her wand, she Vanished the contents in Neville's cauldron.

"Five points from Phoenix."

Moving on, she looked at Hermione's potion, which looked the exact shade of green as Neville's had.

"Another five points from Phoenix." And Hermione's potion was a goner, too.

"But…"

"Ah, talking back, are you? No but, you did wrong, accept it."

"But _you_ wrote it on the board," Hermione said loudly.

Professor Peony smirked at her, then her gaze fell on the last line of her instructions.

"Who did that? No one leaves this room until the culprit has been caught!" she said, blocking the door with her body, shooting them all suspecting stares.

The bell rang, the lesson was over and still no one spoke. Professor Peony saw her defeat.

"Since no one claims responsibility, you will all return here on Friday afternoon," she huffed and stormed out.

While the students filed out of the classroom, Hermione and Neville looking downcast, Malfoy filled a goblet with some of his potion and offered some to his fellow Slytherins, who were having a good laugh.

* * *

Time passed, Snape still missing, everything else was back to normal. Well, as normal as things ever got at Hogwarts. By the end of October the weather changed drastically. Strong winds soared through the grounds, bringing heavy rains with them. No one left the protecting walls of the castle voluntarily. Harry took shelter in his dorm more and more often. Thinking about Dumbledore's words, trying to image how he should possibly convince Malfoy that Muggle could be his friends. Sure.

* * *

"May I come in?" Simon stood in the doorway. "Judging from your pasty face, you need a break from whatever you've been brooding over." 

"Is there a reason why I'm here? In Slytherin?" Harry came straight to the point, hoping Simon knew an answer.

"Dunno." Simon stepped inside the room and sat down on Malfoy's bed, looking at him expectantly. Harry hesitated, but then told Simon about his talk with Dumbledore.

"So, he wants you to open their eyes." Simon stated after Harry had finished his tale.

"Sounds like it, doesn't it. But if it all is just some silly coincidence?"

""Nothing in life is pure coincidence. You have to accept your task, your destiny."

"Who says this is my destiny? I'm the Boy Who Lived, right? Isn't that enough?"

"Well, you'll never know for sure. Which brings us back to your first question." Simon smirked, apparently amused by the situation.

Harry scoffed and looked out the window. The moon was clearly visible, though the raging winds outside shoved huge clouds before it, concealing the pale light above them.

"Why don't you leave that be for now and tell me what you know about Snape's disappearance instead? You know more than the rest, don't you?" It didn't quite sound like a question.

"What, how do you…"

"Your thoughts are an open book. I sensed you were worried about something connected to his unexpected absence."

"I don't know where he went." Harry lied quickly, avoiding Simon's intense gaze, though he realized that Simon would not be fooled on this one.

"He's with…you know…him."

Harry gaped surprised. How did Simon know? But the other one smiled.

"You weren't aware that I know that he's pretending to be a Death Eater, right?"

"You know about all this? That he's acting as a spy?" The words were out before Harry could stop himself; he felt gobsmacked and now clasped his hands over his mouth. "Shoot."

Simon's smiled vanished from his face, but he nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do

"How come?" Harry backed away, suspiciously eying his friend.

"It's a long story, but Severus told me himself. I'm not su…"

"Severus?!" Harry snarled disbelievingly. "Why are you calling him by his first name?"

Simon didn't pay attention to Harry's outburst, but continued to speak, uninterrupted.

"I'm not sure whether _Severus_ told me the entire truth, but I'll tell you all about it, if you like. And I'll eventually get to that, too."

When Harry nodded in agreement, Simon settled in a more comfortable position and took a deep breath.

"Well, I guess it starts when he first discovered the Dark Arts and their meaning. He was still a young kid, when he came to Hogwarts he broadened his knowledge immensely. After his graduation, You-Know-Who recruited Severus right away, luring him with promises of more and deeper knowledge and ways of Dark Magic. It wasn't long until Severus had worked his way up through the ranks and was accepted into the Inner Circle. He was obsessed, a true Death Eater without a conscience. He was already used as a spy back then, only for the other side. His last job was to gain a trustee inside the Ministry. The only problem was he fell for one of his potential victims. As you can imagine, You-Know-Who wasn't exactly pleased and threatened to kill her if Severus wouldn't use her appropriately and get the required information out of her. Things got out of hand, and when Severus didn't return with usable information, but she ended up pregnant, You-Know-Who was fuming. As punishment, Severus was forced to brew a potion, later feed it to her and subsequently kill her and his unborn son. He was devastated.

That was shortly before You-Know-Who's downfall. Severus suffered so much, he - being the obsessed and devoted Death Eater he was back then — forced himself to abide by His rules again and restore his loyalties. My uncle Lucius tried to support him. About half a year later, Lucius gained custody for me and he passed me on to Severus. I was only two years old then. But nothing helped, Severus had lost his devotion for Him and swapped sides. Dumbledore took him in, gave him a job at school and his position as a spy.

It wasn't long until Lucius became suspicious of Severus. It was a game of life and death. Severus wasn't afraid of is own death, but of what could happen to me. I was too old to live with Muggles and Dumbledore didn't want me to live with the Malfoy's either, that's how I ended up with the Boots. I was way too young to understand what was happening, but as soon as I entered Hogwarts, Severus explained everything to me."

Simon fell silent and looked down onto the stone floor. Harry still didn't like Snape any better than before, but he did understand how hard it must have been for anyone to go through and take up with what Snape had endured, without snapping.

"The night he returned, Voldemort said something that sounded as if he was suspecting someone." Harry felt bad expressing his concerns after hearing what happened, and Simon reacted accordingly. He shuddered and looked away.

"Let's change the subject, there's nothing we can do right now anyway."

Harry understood easily and asked the first thing that came to his mind, a question he'd been wanting to ask for ages.

"So, how did you manage to help me during the exam?"

"Good question. When two wizards, both skilled in Legilimency — or rather when both possess the skill, even if they've never used it before — meet, they can use it as some kind of communication and exchange their thoughts over a short distance without saying them out loud."

"How?"

"There are two different ways. One, you're kind of 'pulling' the thoughts out of the other, second you influence the other thoughts and thus force him to 'think' yours."

"Sounds complicated."

"And yet, you already used the more difficult of the two." Simon smirked. "Maybe we should just give it another shot. I will now think of my…favourite colour and you'll try to grasp it with your mind. I bet you can achieve that."

Harry nodded, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he looked at Simon who sat in front of him, his gaze fixed upon Harry's, apparently concentrating hard, Simon closed them. After a while of observing, Harry got the hint and closed his too. He thought of Simon sitting in front of him and suddenly a new image blurred in front of his inner eye. Slowly, very slowly it became clearer and he noticed the details.

_It was summer. Simon left a castle. Hogwarts. He was wearing a robe. With Ravenclaw's colours. He seemed to be in a good mood. He strolled over the meadow, taking a serpentine-like path down to the lake. He slumped down onto the soft ground and stared upwards into the bright, blue sky._

Harry opened his eyes. Bright-blue was Simon's favourite colour, he was sure of it. He looked at Simon who nodded, beaming.

"Wasn't that hard, was it?"

"It was exhausting," Harry replied, and Simon nodded again.

_'Practice makes perfect,'_ Simon's voice echoed in his head.

"How do you do that?"

"Remember your exam? You desperately needed to ask me something and projected the thought into my mind."

"Sure, yes, but how?"

"I honestly don't know. I just do it, without thinking about how it works. Some wizards are said to be skilled enough to be able to mess with someone's mind without them noticing. They believe it's their very own thoughts, dreams, or visions."

"Lord Voldemort," Harry whispered.

"Good example. He is assumed to be very accomplished in this area. Knowing their fears and weaknesses in advance, makes it easier for him to gain followers or achieve his goals."

"How come you know that?" Harry asked a bit suspicious.

"It's all in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. You should read it sometime. All right. We should call it a day for now," Simon concluded their lesson and waved Harry Good Night.

* * *

Halloween came and went without any news of Snape's whereabouts and more and more people believe him to be dead, tortured and killed by You-Know-Who for refusing to lead the Dark Wizard into Hogwarts. The Great Hall was decorated in its usual glory, Hagrid had provided another patch of enormous pumpkins. While Harry sat at the Slytherin table, observing his chatting fellow students, all anticipating another great feast, the last, slightly late, students entered the Hall. Among them, he spotted the certain confident swish of a certain deep, black robe. Gazing up, Harry noticed the disgruntled, pale face of the Potions Master. Deep shadows were visible beneath his blood-shot eyes. Somewhere down the table, Simon lightly shifted his position. A hush fell over the Great Hall while Professor Snape took his seat up front with the other teachers and took a swift swig from his goblet. 

Dumbledore stood in front of them, and without remarking Snape's return, he opened the feast, so that the food appeared on each table and took his seat. Most tucked in silently, but some even shrugged Snape's reappearance off and went along with the feast as if nothing had happened.

When the last bites had vanished, Dumbledore clapped for their attention once more.

"I dearly hope you enjoyed this splendid snack as much as I did. Before you hop into your comfortable beds, I have to make a rather grave announcement. As you all are aware, Lord Voldemort has returned to power and his regrouping his former followers. Unfortunately for us, he managed to regain control of the Dementors, which is a clear throw-back for those fighting him. However, rest assured that your sleep is still as safe as ever. The wards around this castle have been strengthened. So there's no need for you to worry as long as you stay inside these walls. Good Night."

_**TBC**_

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**Next**: Hagrid is fed up, some people chat, some people prefer to duel. 

**I'm considering to copy a strategy I've seen quite a few authors doing. I.E. giving a number of reviews my ego needs to up-date. It seems to be paiyng off for them, let's say ...10 reviews (judging by the number of clicks, that's not too much to ask)...so better R&R!** :-)


	8. Gracious Emnities

**eikwer: **Malfoy and Harry are not friends. But Simon is friends with Harry _and_ Malfoy's (a lot stronger ;-) )cousin, which is why he told Malfoy to be a bit nicer.

Thanks a lot to everyone for your wonderful reviews.

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**Chapter 8: Gracious Emnities - _Summary_**_: Hagrid is fed up, some people chat, some people prefer to duel._

_Thanks to moonysgirl159 for her incredible betawork!_

On their way to their respective dorms, the Hogwarts students produced theories and rumours of what had happened that night at Azkaban prison. The Slytherin students, conversely, directed their conversations to the identities of those who were likely to have escaped their sentences now that the wizard prison was a Dementor-free zone. Unsurprisingly, preparations for a celebration were started as soon as the first students entered the cold Common Room located in the dungeons. Harry tried to summon up the names of Death Eaters he knew, of those who had been caught last summer in the Ministry.

_'Lucius Malfoy, of course, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott,'_ he recalled. All were parents of his classmates. He looked around, noticing them gathered together somewhere in the middle of the room, bursting for happiness about the latest news. _'Dolohov, Lestrange._' Harry winced and tried to locate Simon in the hassle of blissful people. He discovered Simon in a chair by the fire, in silent company with Frederic. Harry tried to reach out and catch Simon's thoughts, but the young man had shut down his walls completely. After trying once more, Harry gave up and let his gaze take in the situation before him. He felt lost in the collective merriment of the Slytherins and wondered, for the first time sine the Sorting, what had possessed him to dislike the new House so much. He didn't want to imagine what this meant for the Wizarding world, or worse, the Muggle world. It wouldn't be long now until Voldemort would attack, he was sure of it.

A sudden hush, caused him to turn his head to the stone door, where their Head of House had just appeared and demanded everyone's attention without so much as whispered word. The students innocently scanned the floor, hiding smiles behind unmoving features.

"I can't tell you anymore than you already know," Snape started. "The Dark Lord's power is growing, but for now Hogwarts is safe and classes will be held as usual."

He turned to leave, the hem of his robes already getting ready for its customary billowing, when a brave third year stepped forward.

"How did he manage that, Sir?" he asked.

Snape arched an eyebrow and for a minuscule moment it looked as if he would answer, but instead he pushed the door open and stepped through. "Go to bed."

* * *

The second he was out of the door, the students continued their happy chatter from before. Since Harry didn't quite feel like having a party in honour of Voldemort's success and Simon had left the Common Room right after Snape's talk, he decided to break the curfew and pay Hedwig a visit in the Owlery. Slowly and quietly, he found his way through the dark to the tower. The castle was as quiet as it should be. He didn't see a single soul, but unfortunately, the same applied to the Owlery. Only a few school owls were resting on the wooden bars, but most of them, including Hedwig, had left for a late-night hunt. Harry tried to empty his mind, but without much success. Thoughts of Voldemort and the prophecy kept invading his troubled mind. Suddenly, he picked up soft footsteps on the staircase below. Fearing being caught by Filch, Harry anxiously searched for a hiding place, but there was not one. Desperate not to lose any house points, Harry made a feeble attempt to hide behind the door. Maybe he would be lucky, and Filch would only take a quick peer inside. The door opened, and Harry recognized the tall figure of a certain Phoenix student.

"Hi, Ron. Are you writing to you parents?"

Ron jolted in alarm but when he recognized Harry, he just turned and tried to persuade Pig to come down to him.

"None of your business, is it?" Ron retorted harshly.

"Tell them I said hi," Harry answered, trying to keep up a friendly attitude.

Ron turned around, gawking at him,

"You serious? After everything they did for you, you go behind everyone's back, fraternizing with the enemy? Only to pretend as if nothing changed? Go figure."

Harry was thunderstruck. He was stuck in an emotional battle, on the one side his, apparently former, best mate, on the other, facing the feeling of being tired of having to defend himself for finding new friends and not receiving any support, not even from the people close to him. He just had to get it all out for once.

"Cut it out, Ron. I've had enough of your…_tittle-tattle_. You should know better than to judge without actually ever making an effort to get to know the person. Or didn't you grow up at all? Well, you should know me better than that. We're friends, remember? Or at least we were," Harry hollered infuriated and forgetting all about the need to be quiet.

"Done?" Ron rejoined, in a matching angry voice. "Ever considered that maybe we don't like to be jumped at just like that? Because that's what you've been doing ever since you found out about Hermione and me. I wonder why. Are you jealous? Or is it Lestrange's influence? After all, he can't be that good a guy if he's now in Slytherin with the rest of the Death Eater pack, can he?" Ron eyed him challengingly.

"Screw you. You have no idea what this is about," Harry snapped and stormed down the staircase. Only when the door slammed shut with an echoing bang, did he realise the racket they must have been making. And sure enough, he could already hear the, fortunately still muffled, sound of Filch coming closer. Harry quickly disappeared behind the next available door, leaving it open a touch so as to be able to sneak out as soon as the caretaker had passed by. The faint thought of warning Ron quickly evaporated in his still fuming mind. _That should teach him._

A couple seconds later, Filch turned around the corner leading to the Owlery . Seeing nothing he was about to head off into the opposite direction, when Ron carefully opened the wooden door and glimpsed out. A nasty beam spread across Filch's face.

"Well, well, we are in trouble."

"Mr. Filch, I was just…" Ron's forehead sported tiny beads of sweat as he frantically tried to make up a decent excuse, but Filch would have none of it.

"Nah, spare your breath for you detention. You will need it. Off to my office, now," the unpleasant man said.

When the two of them had left the corridor, Harry saw his chance to return to his dorm. _'Serves him right,'_ a malevolent voice echoed in his head while he collapsed on his bed but Harry quickly shoved it aside.

* * *

Dumbledore's announcement was followed by a contest of gossip among the students. Everyone was eager to find out more about the happenings, but since even The Daily Prophet only gave a short note on the event without indulging further information, more and more intriguing 'details' circulated the corridors of Hogwarts. Apart from the Slytherins, students and staff were anxious of what would come next, talking about it in hushed voices. Harry felt totally out of place among the happy faces of his Housemates and consequently avoided the Slytherin Common Room and its now nightly parties.

On Saturday morning, Harry was sitting once again on the far corner of the table, when after days of silence, Simon finally sunk onto a stool next to him.

"Hey, what's up with you?"

Harry shrugged and continued scooping porridge into his bowl.

"Going to see the match late on?" Simon didn't let a bad-tempered Harry spoil his mood.

Harry inclined his head. "I guess. The whole team should see how the others are playing. Both teams are just as new and fresh as ours."

They continued chatting about Quidditch until the post arrived. A huge barn owl dropped a newspaper in front of Simon just seconds before a miniature owl fell into Harry's bowl of porridge. First he thought it was Pigwidgeon, but it turned out to be a school owl bearing a note form Hagrid.

"So, you've got a little rendezvous with Hagrid?" Simon questioned him.

Harry nodded, staring back at Simon, whose gaze was fixed upon him.

"You're friends with him, right?"

"So what?" Harry couldn't understand the sudden hostility in Simon's voice

"Well, it's your own responsibility who your friends are." Simon shrugged and unrolled The Daily Prophet.

"About time," he murmured and shifted the paper so Harry could read it as well.

_**Dementors out of control — You-Know-Who is gaining strength**_

_After the Dementors appeared to have abandoned Azkaban Prison two days ago, Ministry worker Arthur Weasley confirmed the public worst speculations last night, saying that the Dementors have indeed returned into You-Know-Who's lines_

_As new information on the exact happenings of that night are now surfacing, it has been determined that there was apparently a leak on the inside. During a crucial phase of the process of reconstructing the entire security system of the prison, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacked the island at its weakest moment. Just how the Dark wizard and his fellows gained this information is still a mystery._

_Further, it seems that the Dementors were easily persuaded to rejoin the Dark Arts and left the prison unattended. This resulted in most prisoners fleeing successfully to the mainland, though it remains to be seen if they received help. Their exact number is still unknown. Those prisoners who failed or did not attempt an escape, have yet to provide useful information._

* * *

After finishing his breakfast, Harry sauntered down to the Quidditch Pitch accompanied by Simon. He was still pondering the article. Just why hadn't they released the Dementors from their position before? At least that could have prevented another mass-break-out.

The match itself was astounding. Ravenclaw was supported by three superb Chasers who gave the Gryffindor players a hard time just following the Quaffle, never mind actually getting their hands on it. If Ginny didn't get the Snitch soon, they were likely to lose. But Harry couldn't spot it anywhere either. Terry Boot had just scored another goal for Ravenclaw, making it eighty-nil. Both Harry and Simon looked at each other incredulously; they had an enormous piece of work to accomplish until they'd have to face these outstanding players, especially if Nott would continue to take up the position of their Keeper. About half an hour later, the scoring had reached one hundred and sixty to ten and the Ravenclaw Chasers were in the middle of another attack on the Gryffindor goal posts, when Ginny caught the Snitch and the match ended in a surprising tie. Harry released his hurting fingers; he had unconsciously crossed them during the match for Ginny, with a content smile on his face. But only because he knew how good a Seeker she was, he told himself. Cho's disappointed face went unnoticed by him.

* * *

After the match, Harry fought his way down to Hagrid's. It took him a while since everyone else was heading in the opposite direction. At last, he reached the front door and knocked. His hand stretched out for a quick second knock, but froze in midair. He had heard voices inside. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of it either. But too late, Hagrid had already opened the door.

"C'mon in." Hagrid opened the door to reveal Hermione and Ron sitting at the table, already warming their hands on their mugs.

"Don't tell me you invited _him_, as well," Harry voiced his irritation.

"Yeah, I thought 'tis 'bout time ye two set yer anger 'side," Hagrid explained and ushered Harry inside the little cabin, practically forcing him to sit in a chair by the table and then set another mug in front of Harry.

They sipped the tea, no one spoke a word, until Hagrid's impatience reached its limits.

"Wha's wrong wit' ye lot?"

"Nothing," Ron said quickly, shooting Harry a dark look, which earned him a nudge in the ribs from Hermione.

"Now, come on, both you. Stop fighting and finally start talking," she addressed the two hotheads.

"Sure, he lost us twenty House points, remember?"

"Yes, but he didn't force you to run around the castle late at night, so you can't blame him for that."

As both boys directed their eyes in front of them, pretending to study their tealeaves, Hermione decided to take a different approach.

"Actually, we should be talking about more important thing, anyway, did either of you read the paper today?"

She pulled a crumpled piece out of her bag and laid it onto the table.

"It's about the Azkaban outbreak. Harry, you didn't happen to hear anything concerning how V-Voldemort gained access into the prison?"

Harry resolved that she was right and to go with it.

"Nope, I hardly spend any time in the Common Room lately. And Snape won't say anything, either."

"Sure, he's a Death Eater, after all," Ron interjected.

"Professor Snape was a Death Eater 'n' is now a spy, yer should know tha' by now. But don't yer go 'round tellin' others," Hagrid cut him off.

"We're not that stupid," Ron replied.

But Hagrid was looking intently at Harry. "What 'bout that new friend of yours, Lestrange?"

"Simon's okay, really. He already knows that Snape's a spy," he grinned at them broadly, but the others were outraged.

"WHAT?" they shouted in unison.

"You talked to him about it?" Ron whispered.

Harry knew that he had better explain the situation and briefly described Simon's relationship to Snape, but leaving out the parts about Snape's past. He felt he'd be abusing Simon's trust, should he reveal too much to them.

"How do you know he's trustworthy?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"Dunno, maybe because he's in a similar situation like I am, and was sorted into Slytherin due to a weird coincidence," Harry answered, but in head he recalled Simon's words. 'Nothing in life is coincidental.'

Ron was still not entirely convinced, but they left it at that and Hagrid moved to the cauldron to fix another pot of tea.

"Harry, how are you getting along with Malfoy?" Hermione said, barely audible, with a fleeting glance in Hagrid's direction.

"Depends, sometimes rather hostile, sometimes okay," Harry replied. "Why?"

"Well, I would assume that he knows more about the Dementors and plans in general. You know, think of his father. How did the Slytherins react to the news of the attack and the outbreak?"

"They were absolutely thrilled and— Hermione, no! I don't think I should be talking about this!" Harry stopped himself.

"Oh, come _on_, Harry. They - and Malfoy especially — might know something about Voldemort's plotting and since you're in their midst, we might as well take advantage of the situation and milk them for information!" Hermione grinned mischievously.

"And you're planning on stopping Voldemort as soon as you gathered enough facts?" Harry stated sarcastically. "Okay."

"No harm will be done by listening closely and keeping your eyes open. At least we'll know something and would be able to prepare ourselves accordingly." Hermione looked at him hopefully.

"I doubt anyone will volunteer anything but I'll see what I can do," Harry finally agreed to play along. "Maybe I can get some to boast a bit next weekend, when Simon probably hand out another cauldron full of his speciality. It usually takes Malfoy about three cup-fulls until he forgets where he is and what he's saying," Harry mused aloud until he caught sight of his friend's bewildered faces. "What?"

"Are you drinking that stuff, too? Are you mad?" Hermione exclaimed a bit too loudly and quickly lowered her voice again. "Harry, this can be dangerous."

"Oh, don't worry. Snape knows and hasn't forbidden it. If Snape's ok with it, you can be too," Harry hastily whispered back. Hagrid was trotting back to the table with a pot of steaming tea in his hand, and he didn't think the half giant would approve of the Potion any more than Hermione did.

"Did I miss anythin' important?" Hagird asked suspiciously upon noticing the sudden silence.

"Nope, not at all. How are the magical rabbits?" Harry pointed their chat in a new direction and motioned their host to refill his cup.

"They're 'bout ready ter take over the postal service," Hagrid announced proudly. "Owls are no longer safe, too many seem to be intercepted or vanish completely. Must be You-Know-Who's doing."

Ron paled slightly. "I just hope no one went after Pig, then."

"Why? Who'd notice a flying feather ball?"

"I just don't want anyone reading it. And he hardly managed to make a decent delivery before owls were being chased down, never mind now. That's all."

They laughed a lot and the time passed too quickly while they discussed serious matters. Harry enjoyed joking around with Ron and Hermione, who were a lot easier about some things than Simon, who usually had a reserved view about things and hardly ever laughed heartily about anything.

* * *

Happy about being on speaking terms with his friends again, though feeling uneasy about the task he had agreed to, Harry slowly returned to the Slytherin Dungeon. The only way of luring Malfoy into disclosing his knowledge was to keep a clear head tonight, observe Malfoy and approach him when he was at his third cup of Confundus Draught, which should make him oblivious to Harry's intentions.

Unfortunately, Simon had spent the past few hours forging new strategies for their next Quidditch match and was now eager to confer on them with Harry, who didn't see a chance of getting out of this talk without raising suspicions, and continued to watch Malfoy and his cronies. _Hey, why not ask Simon? He might have heard something related to Malfoy and everything. _But when asked, the older student just shrugged.

"Dunno. None of my business, is it? There are other things on my mind right now."

"Yeah, strawberries and chocolate with a hint of vanilla ice cream," Harry replied earnestly and then laughed.

"Well, Potter, aren't we having fun," Malfoy hissed, just having come closer to refill his cup. Harry's laughter died abruptly. If he asked Malfoy now he would only trigger Simon's suspicions of why he'd pressed such a matter, so he opted for involving Malfoy in the conversation.

"You don't happen to have finished your History of Magic essay already, do you?"

Malfoy looked at him, dumbfounded. Simon smirked and got up.

"I'll be right back."

"You'll have to do that yourself. Or ask your girlfriend, Granger. I'm sure she's written enough for half of the class anyway. By the way, I saw the two of you together earlier. Did you advise her to buzz off? The Dark Lord is getting stronger and stronger. His most faithful followers rejoined him."

Malfoy looked at him, challenging. And Harry took his chance.

"Do you know something about the Azkaban breakout?"

Malfoy just smirked. "Why should I tell you, of all people, Potter? Afraid of the Dementors?"

Harry quickly shook his head but the chance was gone. It was clear that Malfoy wouldn't go into the subject, so he turned away without saying any more. In the dark corridor, leading to the dorms, Harry heard sharp whispers that stopped as soon as he had entered. In passing he noticed Simon, Frederic and Ethan standing by one of the doors. However, Harry was too tired to process any more tonight and hurried to his bed.

* * *

Harry spent the entire Sunday writing two rolls of parchment for Professor Snape about the rightful use of Veritaserum, as well as finishing an essay for Professor Binns, though that one had to be of less length. However, he was amused to notice that Crabbe and Goyle hadn't finished their homework either. They were seated at a table close to his, trying to copy Malfoy's work. At some point, Malfoy, who had had enough, angrily packed his things and made to leave the Common Room. Crabbe attempted to follow him, but thought better of it when Malfoy pointed his wand threateningly at him. Harry didn't see Malfoy all day after that and Crabbe and Goyle remained gloomily at their table, competing in a silent contest of who could eat the most sweets.

* * *

After his fist lesson since his disappearance, Professor Snape called those students who had to sit the re-examination back and curtly handed each of them a piece of parchment.

_Name: Harry Potter  
Re-sit: Potions_

_Theory: Outstanding  
Practical: Exceeds Expectations_

_Result: Passed_

Harry's heart leaped up as high as it could have. He had passed, though it would still need some time to sink in. Looking around, he saw the pale face belonging to Neville, staring unbelievingly at the parchment in front of him and somehow Harry knew that the shy boy had passed as well, but was too shocked to show it. Harry jumped up to search for Simon to share the good news with him. Since he didn't know Simon's schedule, he aimlessly ran down a few corridors, but it didn't matter, he felt so restless he could have run all the way back down to London. When he was out of breath, he leaned against a wall. He could always thank Simon later during lunch.

"Hullo, Harry," an uncertain voice piped up. Looking up, he saw Ginny standing at the next corner. "You look like you've run through the whole castle," she stated matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded, grinning. "Almost, yes. I'm looking for Simon. I passed Potions."

"Congratulations. That's important news," she smiled, "Sorry, I can't help you."

Harry moved away from the wall and looked at her briefly, before dropping his gaze again to the floor.

"You played really good last Saturday."

"Thanks," Ginny murmured, shifting her position. Harry would have placed any bet that she also reddened, but he didn't dare to look up since his own face had grown pretty hot as well.

"I'll be off, then," he said instead and leisurely walked to his next class.

* * *

During the next few days, nothing worth telling happened. Malfoy's easily irritated temper caused Harry to put his interrogating plans on hold for now. They had finished discussing magical rabbits in Care of Magical Creatures and had moved on to Mudders. They weren't dangerous, but were experts in blending in with their natural environment and their scales were used for healing potions. On a rainy day, Hagrid would send the students out to a muddy patch close to the Great Lake with the task to find a Mudder and scrape of its scales. Harry, of course was picked to be the first to grope around in the mud with his hands, trying to locate a tiny body. All eyes were on him and he started to feel nervous and silly.

'_Finally,_' he thought when his hands didn't squish through more wet dirt but closed on something solid. He pulled a maybe tennis-ball-sized bundle out of the ground. The creature wriggled in his hands, trying to escape and, due to its slipperiness, almost succeeded. Harry tightened his grip until suddenly the creature stopped twisting. Harry grinned proudly and with a loud bang the Mudder exploded in his hands and was gone, spluttering Harry and the rest of the class over and over in dripping, mucky grime.

"Oh, I forgot 'bout that," Hagrid announced, sounding rather delighted. "Mudders tend teh explode when held t' tight."

"Good job, Potter." Draco scowled angrily, whilst wiping mud from his face with a cloth, though his attempts to clean himself only worsened his look.

Harry tried to keep a straight face. "Sorry."

* * *

Badly tempered, the class hurried back to the castle, to clean up before their next lesson. As the Slytherins hastened down a narrow corridor, they bumped into Ron and Hermione, who were dashing equally fast from the opposite direction. Malfoy, who was in front, ran straight into Hermione and his bag slammed onto the floor. Hermione had to hold on to Ron to keep her balance, but lost her wand, which fell down, shooting stars, and rolled towards Malfoy.

"Just perfect," Malfoy yelled, "I was just waiting for a Mudblood to touch me and make this day worse."

Ron, who had always protected Hermione when Malfoy called her names, made for the Slytherin, but Draco was faster. His wand in hand, he threatened the other boy. "Watch it, Weasley. You might just get yourself cursed first."

Ron stopped in his tracks; his eyes wearily directed at the wand, he evaluated his chances. No one else dared to interrupt the situation, to be honest, the Slytherins were rather enjoying themselves.

"Pick up my bag, Weasley." An evil smiled spread across Malfoy's face but Ron shook his head, determined not to give in.

"No. I won't."

"Oh, you still haven't learned your lesson, then?" Malfoy waved his wand and fired a Bat Bogey Hex at Ron, who in return, tried his best to protect his face.

"Stop it, Malfoy." Harry had finally managed to fight his way through the pack of Slytherins. "You'll only get us all into trouble."

But Malfoy laughed heartily with the rest and signalled Crabbe and Goyle to take care of Harry, before turning to Hermione.

"Now, what shall we do with you," he said with a voice full of scorn. "There are so many curses I'd love to try out on you, I just can't decide which one would be the best to start." He laughed his cold laugh again, until, without any kind of warning, he shouted, _"Tarantallegra!"_

Hermione's legs started to move uncontrollable. She looked a fool and while the Slytherins still had the time of their lives, Harry continued to fight for his freedom. Crabbe, however, tightened his grip and twisted his arms. Harry had to stop moving to stop the pain. Goyle left them and moved up next to Malfoy.

"After you," Draco said in a way too friendly manner, and gestured towards Hermione.

Harry didn't really hear what happened next, being busy trying to bite off Crabbe's fingers. Suddenly, he saw Hermione levitating to the ceiling, her legs still lashing about, until her head bumped into it.

The curse on Ron was loosing its effects and he managed to pull his own wand out, which he pointed at Goyle.

_"Relashio_!" he croaked, causing Coyle to be pushed backwards with an enormous force and falling onto Crabbe, who let go of Harry. "_Expelliarmus_!" Ron cried again and Goyle's wand flew in a high bow and landed somewhere behind Ron.

_"Petrificus Totalus_!" Malfoy shouted and Ron's body snapped together, he fell to the floor, his wand was lost somewhere on the ground.

Harry, who had freed himself from Crabbe's grip, dashed forward. Catching his breath, he straightened up and pointed his wand at Malfoy.

"Fancy a duel?"

Malfoy turned around to him and they fought a furious battle, staring into each other's eyes, neither wanting to be the first to blink. Crabbe and Goyle had gotten back onto their feet and started for Harry, but Malfoy waved them back, then he nodded. Malfoy quietly counted to down to one. Having reached the last number, both Harry and Malfoy shot curses at each other at the same time.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

_"Furnunculus!"_

Both curses reached their aim, the only problems was, that even though Malfoy now possessed tentacles, Harry was kneeling in front of him — wandless. Malfoy stepped up to him until the tip of his wand connected with Harry's forehead.

"You lost, Potter. There's no one around to help you now." He flashed his brilliant-white teeth. He was about to fire another curse at Harry, when distant footsteps could be heard hurrying towards them. Malfoy hesitated. The scene on the corridor was bad enough as it was: Harry kneeling defeated, Hermione still levitating above them and Ron motionless spread across the ground. Then Neville came around the corner and stopped in his tracks. Malfoy snorted.

"Get lost, Longbottom." Malfoy turned his attention back to Harry, confident that Neville would be too scared to do anything but keep gawping. Apparently, he had also decided which spell to use, because he swished his wand and Harry was hit by a Stinging Curse. Due to its effects, Harry didn't see or hear what happened next. There were footsteps, people stepping over him and shouting. Finally, he heard Neville's voice loudly above his head.

_"F-Fi-Finite Incatatem!"_

Apparently, Neville had lived up to his parent's skills. The spell was strong enough to end the curses on everyone presently cursed: Hermione plunged down, Ron and Harry sat back up. Malfoy's face was back to normal, though he too was in the process of standing up, dusting his robes. Neville had taking his wand off him with an unexpectedly strong disarming spell.

Malfoy snatched his wand and bag up and walked to them. When he came close to Neville, he slowed his steps slightly and hissed, "You'll pay for that." Then he made his way to their next classroom. The rest of the Slytherins followed suit, shooting menacing glances at Neville.

"Professor Sprout sent me. She wanted to start earlier today, remember? Because of th…"

Neville's hasty explanation was cut short by Ron and Hermione drawing him into a tight hug. Harry hesitated a bit, but then patted Neville on the shoulder in thanks. At that moment the bell rang, calling them all away to their classes.

* * *

Harry spent that afternoon with Simon for another lesson of tutoring for Potions. Even though he had passed the exam, he still had troubles understanding some of the finer distinctions. Suddenly, he felt a burn on his right leg. He quickly reached down to get rid of whatever it was Malfoy had put into his robes, but instead found a glowing Galleon.

"What's that?" Simon asked, checking out the coin. Harry looked at it in surprise. He had totally forgotten about it, but apparently, still carried it around wherever he went.

"It's something from last year. We founded this group and used this to communicate the date of the next meeting. The DA will meet again tonight."

_**TBC**_

* * *

**Next:** DA meets Simon meets Ron.

**A review would be lovely.**


	9. Irrational Jealousy

Lady Rayvynne: Thanks. Hope you'll keep reading.

Penelope: What do you mean by ‚makin up a problem'? Posting smaller bits of the story? Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 9: (Ir)rational Jealousy - _Summary:_**_ DA meets Simon meets Ron._

_Thanks to moonysgirl159 for her incredible betawork!_

_Chain of tears  
Handful of trust  
In the world of dust  
Chain of tears  
Handful of dust  
In the world which can't last_

(Lacrimosa)

"A DA meeting?" Simon looked thoughtful. "Oh Right. You were banned and caught by Umbridge last year; I think Terry mentioned it a couple times. I don't know why I never joined. By the way, this coin, is it a Protean Charm?"

Harry, who was still staring at the coin incredulously, nodded.

"It's very advanced and difficult magic. Who performed it?"

"Hermione," Harry replied and shut his book. "I think I'll try to find her and see what this is about."

* * *

"Hey, Ginny!" Harry had entered the Entrance Hall and his red-haired friend was the first one he spotted among the students filing into the Great Hall for an early dinner.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I...er…do you know anything about the DA meeting tonight?" he asked her in a lower voice than before.

"Nope. Hermione said it's supposed to be a prep meeting, maybe even to gain new members."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Last time I saw her, she was ushering Ron to the library. Well, I guess I'll see you tonight." She showed him a shy smile and then hurried after her friends.

* * *

The library proved to be the wrong place to find Hermione, which was surely a first. Harry would just have to wait until later tonight. After dinner and back in the Common Room, Harry hopped into a chair by the fireplace, wondering if the other members of the DA would have trouble accepting him as their leader, now that he was a Slytherin. It took him about half an hour to convince himself that they would, and another ten minutes to start dreading the meeting.

"Don't you have to be somewhere tonight?" Simon was standing in front of him, looking down curiously.

Harry shifted in his chair. "Yep, I'd better go. Hey, why don't you come along?"

"Right, I don't think that's the best idea you ever had." Simon snorted.

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad. And it'll be two Slytherins then," Harry pleaded.

Simon sighed, but nodded in agreement. They climbed the stairs to the seventh floor and entered the Room of Requirement. Inside, Harry recognized a lot of members from last year plus quite a few from new ones, mostly from Phoenix. He was interrupted by Zacharias Smith who, somehow, had managed to stay in the group.

"What does _he_ want here?" the young boy exclaimed, pointing blatantly at Simon.

"This is an open group. Everyone is welcome," Hermione said firmly, already expecting the direction this would take.

"But he's a Slytherin!" A few more voices butted in, supporting Zacharias' reluctance to admit an obvious 'enemy' to the group.

"The more willing to play on other side, the better," Hermione argued.

"Hermione!" This time it was Ron, who made himself heard above the others' voices. "Didn't you just tell us that the behaviour of the Slytherins towards us has reached a shocking state? And that we should stand up against them?"

Before she could give an answer to this, Terry spoke up.

"Simon's ok. He's my brother."

"No, he is _not_! He's a Lestrange." This outburst from Neville silenced the entire group; all eyes were upon Simon now. Ron had stepped next to Hermione, one protective arm around her.

"He'll only spy on us," he said in a low voice, glowering menacingly at Simon.

* * *

"I knew I shouldn't have come," Simon whispered to Harry.

"You're staying," Harry replied and stepped forward. "I'll handle it."

He walked over to Ron and Hermione, who were having a go at each other.

"Ron, he has the same right to be here as everyone else. It wasn't a Slytherin who told on us last ti…"

"Well, in that case," Ron shouted, "I'm leaving!" He turned on his heels and stomped to the door.

"_Colloportus_." Simon had sealed the door and was now walking towards to Ron.

"Let me out, _freak_," Ron spat at him.

"The only one leaving will be me," Simon said in an unusually cold voice, still moving closer to Ron.

"Simon, no - stay. He doesn't know what he's saying." Terry tried to intervene.

Simon turned to his little brother and smiled frostily. "Terry, nothing will ever change. I'll always be the bad guy, you should know that by now."

"I don't want any Slytherins inside the DA either," Seamus announced suddenly, his voice a tad too cheery. "But hey, here's a thought: Why don't we send a flowery invitation to You-Know-Who right away?"

"Seamus, that's enough!" Harry yelled. He was quickly losing his patience. _They were overreacting._ "How about a vote?"

Since no one argued against it, Harry took their silence as an agreement.

"Okay, so everyone against accepting Slytherins into the DA, raise your hand now."

Slowly, a few hands were lifted; Harry counted eight before asking the opposite question. Terry's hand was up in a flash, Hermione's followed quickly afterwards. But it took some time until a few more Ravenclaws hesitantly raised their hands. Simon had been their housemate once, though one could see their torn feelings written on their faces. Who knew what had caused the Sorting Hat to make Simon a Slytherin, after all?

_Tied,_ Harry thought, frustrated, but then Ginny gradually brought her hand up as well.

"So, Simon stays," Harry declared happily, beaming at Ginny. "Whoever else wants to leave, there's the door." Harry focused his eyes on Ron, who stood his ground until Harry nodded, satisfied. He took a seat next to Simon and gestured to Hermione for her to continue with her talk.

"Okay. Why this meeting? There are several reasons. One, there has been an increasing amount of attacks from Slytherins - sorry Harry, Simon, but it's a fact - against students from other Houses. Two, Flitwick might be an extraordinarily good teacher in Defence, but it can never hurt to practice more. Three, V-Voldemort is back." She stopped here to let her words sink in.

"People keep asking me about curses or defensive spells, so I thought it a good idea to have regular meetings again. Especially, since some of the older students asked me about curses I couldn't find anywhere. The situation seems very serious."

"Yep, that's true. Someone — I think it might have been Nott - tried to use something that sounded like _Corpus Inflamare_ on me, I dodged it, but it doesn't show up in any of our books," Baddock chimed in.

"That's probably, because you were checking the wrong books," Simon said. "_Corpus Inflamare_ is a fire curse and advanced dark magic." They were all listening to him, so he continued. "It's hard to defend yourself against it because usually the person hit by this curse needs the help of another wizard — or witch — to reverse it. Second, its effects are rather painful. So, you can consider yourself lucky you 'dodged' it."

"Why would you need someone else's help?" Hermione asked, drinking in his every word.

"Because it usually destroys your wand first."

"How do you wield it off then?" Baddock inquired.

"With a very strong Shield Charm," Simon replied.

"Can we practice it? Then I could finally get rid of Prichard," Dennis Creevey asked with a wide grin on his face.

Simon, however, was not amused and sent him an irritated look. "There's nothing funny about this."

* * *

About an hour later, the group had agreed on which curses and defensive spells would be practiced and rehearsed in their next lesson and that Hermione would take the lead next to Harry this time around. Since precautions no longer had to be taken, the group left in one after the meeting was declared over. This left Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Simon to stock the cushions in a corner and return some of the books to their shelves. Ron was still fuming and continuously shot suspicious glares towards Simon, who did his best to simply ignore them. At some point, Harry pulled Ginny slightly away from the others.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"What for?"

"If you hadn't raised your hand, we would have had to leave," he explained.

"Oh, you would have gone as well?"

"Of course, it was about Slytherins in general, not just Simon. I would have gone too," he elaborated further. He looked to the other side of the room, where Ron and Hermione were having another heated, but whispered, conversation, then turned to Simon.

"Everything okay?"

"Yep, I just feel a bit bad about the DA almost breaking up because of me," Simon answered, but Harry had trouble determining Simon's true feelings, as usual.

"Don't worry about it. They'll come to their senses." With that, they bode the other three Good Night and left for their Common Room.

* * *

Autumn's storms had finally died down and the rain had decreased immensely. Winter's cold was moving into the country, frost on the windows promised that the first bits of snow would fall soon. Harry spent more and more time in the library, looking up curses and spells. More often than not, he was accompanied by Hermione, who was still the main source of information, and Ron, who was pretending to support them, though actually he was just sitting beside them, in order to be close to Hermione.

Two days prior to the next DA-meeting, Harry was seated in his favourite spot in the library, reading the book Simon had recommended to him: _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. This copy wasn't up-to-date, it ended with Voldemort's fall, but Harry was concentrating on Voldemort's rising and his reign of Terror, anyway. According to the description, it was a lot worse than Harry had ever imagined. The arrival of Ron, Hermione and Ginny interrupted his studies.

"I won't be able to come day after next - Quidditch practice," Ron was just saying.

Harry moved a few of his belonging to the side to make room for the books Hermione was carrying.

"It was already difficult to find a time that suits everyone with four Houses, now that it's five, it only gotten harder," Harry agreed.

"Exactly, but if Slytherin wouldn't book the pitch so often, other teams could be more flexible," Ron said, obviously upset.

"We have to train Theodore. He's the weak member in our team, we need the extra practice," Harry replied.

"Who's Theodore?" Ron asked.

"Our Keeper, Theodore Nott, you know him."

"You're using his first name? How low can you still sink?" Ron provoked.

"Why don't we change the subject," Hermione suggested and did so right away. "Did anything interesting happen around the Slytherins lately, Harry?"

"Nope, nothing at all. It was rather quiet. I believe that Malfoy is still holding his special speeches, but I try to avoid them. Besides, he's probably only speaking up when I'm not around."

"What kind of speeches?" Ginny inquired.

Harry sighed and repeated what he could remember of Malfoy's speech. When he finished, Hermione clasped her hand to her mouth and Ginny looked shocked.

"And no one, I mean absolutely no one, said _anything_ to this?"

Harry shook his head. "No, as I said. Well, except for Simon."

"Hello, are you all right there?" someone behind him asked. All their heads shot up guiltily and in surprise. Harry turned around and saw directly into Simon's pale blue eyes.

_Anger. He's angry, but doesn't want to show it,_ Harry thought and sat up straight. It was the first time he had managed to invade Simon's mind and feel his emotions.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked.

"I'll tell you later," Simon responded, getting his calm features back together. To the others he said, "Don't listen to Draco. He just likes to talk, but is too cowardly to actually do something and get dirt on his hands. Without his two shadows, he'd be nothing, just a little boy scared shitless. I'll see you later, Harry."

Ginny and Hermione were staring at his retreating back, too shaken to say anything. Ron, however, had to make his position clear once more.

"If there's nothing wrong with that guy, I'll volunteer for detention with Snape for the rest for the year," Ron uttered, also watching Simon leave, though with another of his sceptical glances.

"Ron, really, you're not being fair. Just because he's a Slytherin, doesn't mean that he has ulterior motives," Hermione stopped Ron's monologue.

"He's spying on us. Or what do you think that was just now?" Ron was obviously in a bad mood.

"He was close by and just heard us talking by accident. Things like this happen," Ginny said, siding with Hermione. This was the kick-off for a fiery argument between the three of them. Harry, who was extremely tired of this topic kept quiet and returned to his readings instead. Occasionally, he heard words like Slytherin, Lestrange, You-Know-Who, and espionage. Suddenly, Hermione elbowed him.

"Harry! Say something. This is ridiculous," she cried out.

"Wh…What should I say? I don't have anything else to say to this. I already mentioned a few times that I trust him," Harry said taken by surprise.

"You're all out of your minds," Ron declared and stormed out.

Hermione made to go after him, but Ginny stopped her.

"He'll calm down," she assured her and smiled apologetically to Madame Pince, who was on her way towards them, probably to kick them out due to their loud discussion.

Hermione broke down onto a chair, her face full of desperation and helplessness. Her eyes were filling with tears.

"There's no reason why you should cry," Harry told her.

"Oh, what do you know," Hermione sniffed.

Ginny gave him a reproachful look, which said clearly, _How can you be so tactless?_ She hugged her friend. While she comforted Hermione, Harry returned to his book. He preferred to stay out of this, feeling uncomfortable with the situation but he couldn't read a word. He only looked up again, when Hermione had stopped sobbing. Worriedly, he looked at her, and even though he felt guiltily about it, he concentrated on Hermione. He caught anger and fear radiating from her. Both emotions were closely connected to Ron. And then he broke through her surface.

_Hermione was standing in a circular room, which was most likely to be the Phoenix Common Room. She was yelling at Ron, but he didn't seem to be listening to her. Instead Ron turned away from her and stamped to a door, slamming it shut behind him. Hermione was left alone, tears running down her face._

Harry had a feeling that this hadn't been the only fight they've had lately. Harry wondered if Ginny knew about this. He was used to Ron and Hermione nagging at each other, but seeing them fight like this was something else. He didn't know what to do.

"Should I leave you two alone?" he asked Ginny, hesitantly.

"No, it's okay," Hermione answered instead. irrational

They all fell silent, unsure of what to say or do next. Hermione's eyes fell on a book Harry and been reading. She commented on it, and they were quickly engaged in an intensive discussion about Voldemort's power and the curses he favoured. They were very distracted and didn't notice the time. Only when it was so dark outside, that the candles in the library were lit, did they emerge from their musings. They realized how hungry they all were and went down to dinner together. When Harry sat down at the Slytherin table, his gaze fell on Simon. The older student no longer had an air of anger around him and the walls around his mind were back up, tightly shut.

_Why had he been so angry?_

* * *

Although he knew very well that he should be doing some of his homework, Harry sat gloomily in his Common Room later that night. He just couldn't concentrate, so all he did was flip through his Herbology book.

"What happened to you?" Simon let himself fall into a chair at Harry's table. In response, Harry only shook his head. "What? You're not talking to me?" Simon seemed entertained by Harry's lack of enthusiasm for a conversation.

"Why were you so angry earlier?" Harry finally blurted.

Simon hesitated, but then answered, "My girlfriend…"

"…broke up with you," Harry finished for him. Simon inclined his had slightly, then got up and left. Harry let Simon be. Harry had never met the girl, nor heard her name, so he wouldn't know what to say, anyway. He rolled open a new bit of parchment, trying to get back on his homework, but as before, he wasn't very successful. He gazed out the window, watching the first snowflakes dancing by. It was still too warm, so they melted as soon as they touched down.

* * *

Two days later, Harry ascended the stairs leading to the seventh floor, glad that Ron would be away at Quidditch practice. Ginny and Hermione sat together right next to the door, talking quietly with each other. Hermione still looked a terrible mess. It was time that someone told Ron to get a grip on himself. Simon was seated in the back of the room, away from the rest of the group, absorbed in a book. Occasionally, some students shot him anxious looks.

Harry moved into the middle of the room and started to tell the group what they'd be doing that day, how a specific Shield Charm worked and what they had to be cautious about. Since the room was a bit small for all of them to practice at once, Harry divided the members into two groups. Neville was partnered with Seamus, but was experiencing enormous trouble with directing the Shield Charm, so that other students were often hit by the Stunning Spell he was supposed to deflect.

"Neville, hold on. Try to imagine where you want to lead the curse. Otherwise it will keep flying everywhere and do more harm than it already does," Harry intervened.

Half an hour later, it was time for the groups to swap places. Simon was left without a partner, and since Harry would have to observe the happenings, he scanned the room for any potential student. His eyes rested on Neville, who could definitely use more practical training, but Harry could imagine all to well that this combination would never work out. Then, he saw Ginny and Hermione standing near by, so he walked over to them and finally paired Ginny and Neville and Hermione with Simon. Near the end of the lesson, Simon and Hermione became the centre of everyone's attention. They were moving the blue shaft of light from a Stunner back and forth between them, each deflecting it and shooting it back at the other. They continued this game, until suddenly the door opened and the Phoenix Quidditch team spilled into the room. The clattering of Ron's broom falling to the floor distracted Hermione. She looked up, caught Ron's eye and was hit by the Stunning Spell she had forgotten to deflect.

Hermione collapsed to the floor. Simon eyes were widened in shock; he hurried over to her, just as Ron dashed towards the unconscious girl as well. Simon got to Hermione first, kneeled down and pointed his wand at her chest.

"Keep your filthy hands off her, you moron," Ron spat, trying to shove Simon aside.

"_Enervate_." Only when he had spoken the incantation, did Simon look up at Ron and move aside.

Ron groped for Hermione's hand. "Come on, let's go. I've seen it coming all along, but you wouldn't believe me. Here's your evidence. All that freak ever wanted to do is harm you," Ron quarrelled.

"Are you of your mind? That was just an accident!" Hermione pulled her hand from Ron's.

"Hermione, please, he was having fun Stunning you. You should have seen his face," Ron wouldn't hear of it.

"Oh, I know what's wrong with you. You're jealous," Hermione screamed back.

"Ha! I won't listen to any more of this nonsense. If you like him so much, why don't you go ahead and date _him_!" Ron's face was a mask of pure anger.

"You're such a brat." Hermione looked as though she was about to cry.

Ron spun around and pounded out of the room, leaving behind an awkward silence. Harry quickly dismissed the meeting, ushering the group out to give Hermione some peace. She had retreated to a back corner and crouched on the floor, crying bitterly.

"I'll go and see if I can talk some sense into Ron," Ginny said. "Could you stay here with Hermione?"

Harry and Simon looked at each other, both were uncertain of how to react. But Ginny didn't really give them a chance to decide, she had already left.

Hesitantly, Harry tiptoed to Hermione and kneeled next to her. He put an arm around her and frantically searched for something comforting to say. Simon leaned down as well and handed her a tissue. Then he sat down and shrugged._ What now?_

Harry opted for optimism. "Hey Hermione, everything will be all right." But she only hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shivering.

_Don't get her hopes up,_ Simon's voice echoed in Harry's head.

_But there has to be something I can do or say. Seeing her like this is awful,_' Harry thought back.

_Just give her time, _Simon suggested.

With every minute that passed, Hermione seemed indeed to calm down bit by bit.

_Try to hold off Ginny. She's on her way back and has bad news,_ Harry heard Simon say. _Go on, I'll take care of her_, he added when Harry looked at Hermione uncertainly.

* * *

Ginny had indeed bad news. She had found Ron, talked to him, but he wouldn't listen to a word. He had said that he needed some distance. Ginny helplessly rolled her eyes. Anger was rising inside Harry. He couldn't understand what was wrong with his friend. Not knowing what else there was to do now, he suggested going back in to Hermione.

Simon and Hermione were still crouched in the corner, where he had left them, talking quietly. Upon hearing them enter, Simon looked up, apparently glad they had returned. He did look a bit lost in the situation and Harry was thankful that Simon had stayed to help out, no matter what.

"Hey, how are you?" Ginny asked as she took over. Hermione tried to smile, but failed.

* * *

Harry saw Hermione again during their Potions class the next morning. She looked tired and had trouble following Snape's instructions. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere today and she didn't pay attention to what she was doing to her potion.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, what potion are you trying to brew?" Snape naturally took advantage of Hermione's desolate state. She eyed her potion with sad eyes, opened her mouth but no sound came out of it.

"Ten points from Phoenix," Snape continued in a silky voice.

"What did I do?" Hermione had finally found the ability to speak.

Snape arched an eyebrow and around his lips curled a malicious sneer. He strode to the cauldron and, towering over the miserable girl, took a ladle and dipped it into Hermione's potion, making sure everyone was watching. Then he lifted it gradually and with an indolent movement let the liquid slowly rinse back into the cauldron. It was obvious that he was enjoying this moment and intended to make this pleasure last as long as possible.

"I shall enlighten you as to what you did," Snape said with a soft voice, making a significant pause before continuing. "You...ah…failed."

Hermione let out a gasp and tears were gathering in her eyes. Harry stood on his tiptoes. He had to admit that Hermione's potion didn't look exactly the way it should, but it certainly looked better than most others. Hermione started to protest, but Snape Vanished her potion without another word. Angrily, Hermione snatched up a cloth and started wiping her table. Harry wished nothing more than to go over and hug her, but he knew better than to stretch Snape's patience. As soon as the bell rang, he pushed his chair back and took a step towards Hermione, but she had already stormed out. He looked after her, feeling miserably. Since he didn't know what good it'd do if he ran after her now, he started sorting the ingredients she had left on the table on to the shelves.

* * *

During the next few days, Hermione looked worse every time Harry saw her. Her blood-shot eyes and pasty face had almost become her usual look. Ron refused to talk to anyone at all and avoided his friends as best as he could. Harry allowed Hermione all the time she needed, just as Simon had suggested. She and Ginny spent more and more time with Harry and Simon, chatting away about everything but Ron.

One morning after breakfast, Ginny approached Harry, a resolute impression on her face.

"Say, what are you doing on the 24th?"

"What? Why?" Harry almost choked on his porridge, desperately trying to remember what else, other than Christmas Eve, that date meant.

"Where have you been the past days? Everyone's talking about it, it can't just have gone past you," she exclaimed. "The 24th is the date of the Yule ball."

"Er…I…er…didn't know," Harry stammered. It was still almost four weeks until Christmas, a long time, so why should he worry about that now?

"So, are you going to ask me to come to the ball with you or what?" Ginny burst out.

"Yes!" Harry shouted way too quickly and only then did realise that _he_ was supposed to ask _her_. Reddening furiously, he added, "Er…I mean: will you go to the ball with me?"

Ginny smiled shyly, almost laughing at him. "Of course."

_**TBC**_

* * *

**A/N:** I know, a Yule Ball is not something you have every year at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore has his reasons and will share them with us in due time.

Just for clarification: When Simon and / or Harry 'talk' in italics, they're using Legilimency. Harry's not (yet) doing it on purpose, but getting better at it. It's mainly Simon's doing.

* * *

**Next**: Snape is asked for a dance and Voldemort has a happy moment

**Review, pretty please?**


	10. The Yule Ball

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, for your warm words. They're very much appreciated.**

_Thanks again to moonysgirl159 for being such a wonderful _beta.

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Yule Ball - _Summary:_**_ Snape is asked for a dance and Voldemort has a happy moment._

After finishing his breakfast with an uncontrollable grin on his face, Harry skipped down to the greenhouses. The day promised to show the gorgeous side of winter. It had snowed last night and the entire landscape was covered in the powdery substance. The now cloudless sky was only waiting for the day to move on, so the sun could show her face. Most students were already gathered in front of greenhouse number five; some were engaged in a pre-class snow fight. Hermione was standing alone in a corner, reading a book.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted her.

"Hullo. How are you?"

"Okay." He had difficulty hiding his good mood, but tried his best not to sound too cheery. "How about you?"

Although she gave a positive answer, Harry felt the negative feelings all round her. Of course, she wasn't feeling well and he felt bad for 'spying' on her feelings. Professor Sprout arrived and didn't give them a chance to talk further. The lesson itself went without spectacular events. They cut back the last plants and did the final preparations for their winter rest.  
Ron was working in one corner with Seamus and Neville, Hermione and Harry in the far corner opposite them, each group avoiding close contact with the other. Harry was bursting to share his news with someone, but didn't want to remind Hermione of her troubles in the love department, thus kept his mouth shut.

"Harry, could you meet me in the library this afternoon?" Hermione asked before they had to part after their lesson.

"I have Quidditch practice, but I could see you afterwards," he answered.

"Okay, just come. It's important," she said and left him clueless as to what she wished to talk about.

* * *

"Theodore! Darn it! The left hoop is not covered at all!" Simon yelled towards the Slytherin Keeper before scoring another goal. Then he signalled the rest of the team to fly to the ground.

"This was another awful session," he stated when the team was gathered around him. "Theodore, if you don't develop unexpected skills in goal keeping by Saturday, I'll be forced to look for a new Keeper."

"Won't you give him another shot?" Bole tried to help his friend.

"He'll have the last one on Saturday," Simon answered, his manner not allowing for any more arguments.

Since it was too dark to continue practicing, they packed their things and returned to the castle. Harry hung back and waited for Simon, who was storing the casket with the balls in their shed. "Do you really mean to throw him out of the team?" he asked when Simon came back up the path.

""No, not really. I know he could do much better, if he'd just concentrate, but I'm not going to jeopardize the Cup just because of him."

Reaching the door, Harry remembered that he had promised to meet Hermione, so he pushed his broom into Simon's hands.

"You go ahead, I'll catch up later," Harry said and without further ado, he rushed to the library. However, when he got there, there was no Hermione. He checked every corner then shrugged and walked down to the dungeons. He found her in front of the Potions classroom, talking to Simon, who was a bit further down the corridor. Harry took his broom back and turned to Hermione.

"Why weren't you in the library?"

"It got late and, so I thought you might have forgotten our meeting, that's when I came down here."

"Hmm. What's this all about?" Harry asked.

"The next DA meeting. I would like to suggest revising the Patronus Charm," Hermione explained. "Dementors are everywhere; there have been attacks on Muggles. It was in the Daily Prophet. Yes, those who were in the DA last year should be fine, but there are so many new members, we really should teach them."

"Even if we do, they won't have managed the charm properly until about Christmas, so let's go with the original plan and keep practicing defensive spells."

"That's not what I mean. What do you think?" she addressed Simon, hoping for support.

"You also know how to produce a Patronus?" he asked, ignoring her question, astounded by her ability to perform advanced magic.

"Yes," she nodded eagerly. "Don't you?"

"Not yet. Professor Flitwick already said he might introduce it after we're through with dangerous half-creatures, you know, werewolves, Veelas, vampires and the likes..."

"Since when are werewolves dangerous?" Harry interrupted.

"Oh, of course they don't _have_ to be. Neither do Vampires, but they _could_ be. Many of them joined You-Know-Who, so it's a good thing to learn about their strengths and weaknesses," Simon lectured him.

Hermione didn't need to come up with any more reasons; Harry went along with whatever she suggested in the end anyway. So the next DA meetings were devoted to the Patronus Charm. It took most of the new members two meetings to produce at least a silvery cloud. Harry was especially disappointed in his inability to teach Simon something important; after all, Simon had helped Harry so much with his Potions. Simon didn't lack the theoretic information; he just couldn't get the practical part right.

* * *

Harry and Simon were seated in the library, once again pouring over a Potions book, when Ginny and Hermione joined them.

"Have you heard? _Eric and the Phantoms_ will be playing at the Yule ball," Ginny giggled. "I love them. You'll have no choice but to dance, Harry."

Harry exhaled quite a bit of air and pursued his lips, remembering the last time he had been forced to dance. Well, at least he wouldn't have to open the ball this time. He turned his eyes to Hermione, who sat silently across from him.

"Hey you, shouldn't you be looking forward to Christmas with your parents? Just a little bit?" he said in cheery voice, trying to lift her spirits.

"Yeah, but only 'cause I can't stand being here much longer," she replied solemnly. "And then there's all this stupid fuss about this stupid ball."

"Aren't you going?"

"No. I couldn't stand to watch Ron and Lavender dance or have fun or whatever." She gritted her teeth.

"What?" Ginny asked. "You're sure he's going with that prat?"

"Yep. She's beautiful, I think he likes her." Hermione's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"No, no, no, Hermione. You can't take it like that. You have to go. We'll find you a decent bloke, one who's sure to get to Ron. Oh, he's so going to bite his…"

"Ginny!" Harry interrupted her, but couldn't help grinning.

"Do you know a single handsome boy around here who doesn't have a date yet and would take me?" Hermione asked, not really expecting an answer..

"Maybe Dean?"

"He's taking Parvati."

"Neville?"

"One, he's asked Luna. Two, he's not talking to me because I'm hanging around with Harry and Simon all the time, and three, he won't make Ron jealous, would he?"

Ginny had to agree and looked around thoughtfully. Suddenly, a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Who are you taking?" she jumped at Simon, poking his elbow.

Being absorbed in his Potions book and then addressed so suddenly, Simon was caught off guard. "W-With no one, why?"

"Hermione, may I introduce you to your date for the ball?" Ginny announced, not really asking. Simon made to protest, but Ginny stopped him. "You're not taking anyone, she's still free and a good dancer, so why not?"

Simon raised his hands in defeat and smiled shyly at Hermione. "Well, I guess you're right." Then he turned a page in the book about dangerous potions, he had been reading, and returned his attention to its fascinating content.

"You can't just determine that!" Hermione hadn't as much trouble protesting.

"Yes, I can. Look, he's damn handsome, but Ron would freak out even if he wasn't," Ginny whispered into her ear.

Hermione sighed and studied Simon, who was again bending over his book, captivated by it and not listening to them. His long legs were stretched out in front of him as he was sitting leisurely in his chair, wiping a strand of his dark hair from his pale-blue eyes. His slender hands rested on the pages in front of him, gently tapping the parchment. Ginny was right, he was indeed very good —looking, but what really won Hermione over was that Simon was as interested in academic topics as she was. They would certainly find quite a few fascinating subjects to talk about, so they would certainly not just sit the night out in silence. When she noticed Harry watching her, she quickly directed her gaze away from Simon towards the floor and followed Ginny out of the library.

* * *

On their last day of school before the Christmas break, Harry met Ginny only shortly during lunchtime. They fixed a place and time where Simon and Harry would await the girls later that night. He was feeling a bit nervous about it and when he finally stood in his dormitory and pulled his festive robes from his trunk, he was annoyed with himself that he hadn't done so earlier. The robes were wrinkled badly and unfortunately he didn't know a charm to change that. He opted for smoothing it with his hands as best as he could. Then he made a half-hearted attempt to flatten his hair, but knew it was in vain. Malfoy, who looked perfectly stunning in his dress robes, didn't help.

"Potter, you're hopeless. I've always wondered how many birds are nesting inside that mane of yours," he spat.

As much as he hated it, Harry had to agree with Malfoy. His hair was, and always would be, nothing but a mess. He gave up and went to the almost empty Common Room instead and ran straight into a fight between Ethan and Simon.

"How can you take a Mudblood to the ball?" Ethan was just inquiring, a challenging look on his face.

"Shut up, that's none of your freaking business," Simon hissed angrily, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Ha. You're no better than the Weasels. Can we expect you to move into their dump of a house soon, blood traitor?" Ethan mocked, practically spitting the words. "You disgust me."

"Let's get out of here," Simon said to Harry through gritted teeth and pulled him to the by his sleeve to the stone wall. Outside, Simon strode quickly towards the stairs leading upwards to the Entrance Hall. "Where are we meeting the girls?" he asked, clearly not wanting to elaborate the fight further.

"Underneath the Ravenclaw banner," Harry replied, not sure what to think.

* * *

The Entrance Hall was buzzing with the excited talk of a huge crowd of students, each waiting for their partners and admiring the decorations inside the Great Hall. Looking around for Hermione and Ginny, Harry noticed Ron standing by the stairs, apparently waiting for Lavender. He had bought new dress-robes, which shimmered in different shades of green, depending on how the light fell onto them. Suddenly, the look on his face changed and Harry followed the direction of Ron's eyes. Hermione and Ginny had entered the Hall from a side door. Hermione had smoothed her hair like last time, but left it falling open down her back. She was wearing new light-blue dress robes, which were tied by a dark blue ribbon at her back, its bands waving down until they reached her ankles. Ginny had chosen brown robes, which matched her eyes beautifully. Her hair was done in a complicated twist, piling on top of her head. Ron's mouth was left open, when the two of them marched past him without giving him the tiniest acknowledgment.

"Hi there," Harry met them. He was unsure of how he should react. Take her hand? Offer his arm, or just lead the way over to the Great Hall? Make a bit of small talk first? He looked to Simon for help, but the older student was paying attention to Hermione.

"Those robes suit you well," he said with a light smile curling around his lips.

"Thanks, you look good, too," Hermione responded shyly. "What did you do to your robes?" she asked Harry and took out her wand. With a quick flick, his robes looked freshly ironed.

"Do you intend to spend the entire ball out here?" Ginny asked and hooked her arm into Harry's, dragging him towards the oak doors. Behind them, Simon offered his arm to Hermione who took it, blushing faintly.

The Great Hall was, of course, a feast for the eyes. Several towering Christmas trees were set up along side the walls. The House tables had disappeared; instead there were numerous smaller tables, each offering place for up to six people. On one side, a stage was set up, in front of it, a dance floor. Ginny picked a table for four and they took their seats, the boys on one side, the girls opposite them. When Ron, with Lavender on his hand passed their table, he glowered at Simon. Ginny laughed out loud and leaned over to Hermione.

"Did you just see that?" she asked.

"What?"

"Ron's mad as hell." Ginny chuckled.

Except Hermione couldn't find anything funny in it. She let her sullen gaze sway around the hall and then rest on Ron.

"Ginny, don't you think you're being insensitive?" Simon said, disapproving of Ginny's behaviour. "We're not here together to trigger Ron's jealousy."

Ginny pulled a straight face and reached for the menu card, which had just materialised on their table.

* * *

After everyone had finished their merry banquet, Dumbledore called for their attention.

"Some of you might be aware that nothing in this castle happens without a reason. At the beginning of the year, the old system was replaced by a new one, adding a new House in the hopes of guaranteeing better teaching. The newly established situation was meant to create a better understanding between the Houses. I hoped that those who were taken from their friends would form new bonds with their new housemates, maybe even establish inter-house relationships. Unfortunately, this backfired in a way I couldn't foresee. Yes, some of you did indeed follow my advice and don't regard a different colour of robes as an obstacle, but too many don't. There have been hostilities, enmities, and severe fights — something I can no longer stand to watch. Only united can we be strong. Which is way I ask you to see this ball as a new beginning. To give you a good example of how wonderful and easy inter-house friendships can be, I would like to ask all couples of different houses to grace us with the first dance. Hop hop!"

Dumbledore clapped his hands and the lights were dimmed. Most students applauded this idea and those in question got up to share the first dance with their partners, though the boys were more reluctant than the girls. Ginny grinned broadly.

"Harry, you'll dance, won't you?"

_I don't want to dance, I can't dance, _Harry was reciting in his head, but flashed Ginny a smile. She took his hand and they got up.

"The two of you, too," Ginny addressed Simon and Hermione.

"I don't feel like dancing," Hermione declined.

"The four of us are probably the only Slytherin-mixed couples, we have to," Ginny tried to convince them. Simon, taking the lead, walked in front of Hermione and offered her his hand. Hermione looked up and timidly accepted. They moved to the dance floor and waited for the band to start playing. They begun a slower song, but Harry didn't have time to make out the lyrics. He was busy taking care not to tread on Ginny's tiny feet.

Finally, it was over. Harry exhaled his breath in relief, turning to leave the dance floor. But he hadn't calculated Ginny's insistence to keep dancing. She flashed him a smile, looking pleadingly at him, her brown eyes so full of hope, he simply couldn't say no to her. This time, the band played a quicker song and the other students invaded the dancing area. Ginny directed his attention towards Simon and Hermione.

"Don't they look lovely," she admired them.

Harry now looked at them too. Simon seemed to be a lot better dancer than Harry, leading Hermione with a strong arm, never taking his eyes of her. Hermione, had to tilt her head back to look at him, but was obviously enjoying herself, she hadn't looked this happy in ages. Apparently, she had decided to forget about Ron and her troubles for now. The song ended and Simon took Hermione by her arm and led her to the edge of the dance floor. Harry and Ginny followed suit.

"And you didn't want to come. You're dancing like a princess," Ginny exclaimed happily.

Hermione grinned back. "How about a drink?"

Ginny understood, smiled and skipped arm in arm with Hermione into the crowd.

* * *

It didn't take them very long until they returned, a Butterbeer in each hand. Hermione looked around surprised.

"Where's Simon?"

"Fredric came over, they went to fetch themselves a drink, I think. Don't worry, he'll be back," Harry calmed her.

Ginny handed him his Butterbeer. Sipping their drink, they observed the surroundings. That was until Ron and Lavender danced into their view.

Hermione put her Butterbeer down with a clang. "I can't watch this. I need some air. Alone," she added.

She spun around and hurried out of the Great Hall, her face a blank mask. Ginny wanted to follow her, but Harry held the redhead back. "No. She said she needed some alone time. We should give her that. She's strong, she'll get over it."

"You're probably right," Ginny agreed. "I just wanted her to spend a night happily for a change and Simon seemed to be the right person for that."

"Shouldn't she come to terms with Ron first? I guess it was a bit too fast for her."

"Okay, okay. How about another dance?"

"I can't dance, you know that," Harry protested.

"Oh, you're not as bad as you think. My feet are the victims here, so as long as I'm not complaining, you're good." She grinned at him.

After a few more fast and exhausting songs, they were lucky enough to get another slow one, which seemed to last forever. Ginny was the one leading this time, giving Harry the oppurutnity to let his gaze sway. He saw Crabbe and Goyle standing like guards by one of the Christmas trees. This also seemed to be a favourite spot of the Slytherins tonight. By the way some of them were behaving, Harry would place every bet that they were secretly consuming Confundus Potion. Then there was Dean dancing expertly with Parvati, he spotted Simon standing next to the stage and talking to someone. At some point, he noticed Luna. Her usual weird style was topped by what she was wearing tonight. Her robes were venom green sporting red and yellow dots in various sizes. On her head, she wore a matching yellow hat with a flower sticking to its side. At this very moment, she was approaching Professor Snape. It took her a few seconds to gain his attention, when he finally bothered to look down his nose at her; she said something to him, looking up hopefully and giving him a cheery smile. The way Snape returned her gaze, Harry feared for Luna's health. He looked murderous, his eyes as narrow as a cat's ready to strike its prey. He seemed to hiss something, though his lips barely moved. Luna's eyes widened and she backed off. Now, she was fighting her way over to them. Harry motioned Ginny to return to their table to chat.

"What's up with you?" Ginny asked

"I just asked Professor Snape for a dance," she replied leisurely.

Ginny and Harry looked at her, eyes open wide.

"Oh, he declined. At least that's what I think he did. I'm really starting to think he's a vampire. You know, he's always on his own and clearly has no idea how to socialize properly with other people. Poor man," Luna explained in her dreamy voice. "Have you seen Neville?"

Harry and Ginny were both still too astounded to utter a word, so both shook their heads and Luna left to find Neville to dance with him instead.

"That one sure is weird." Simon's amused voice sounded from behind them. He took the chair Luna had just been sat on. "Where's Hermione?"

"No idea. She left us maybe an hour ago. She wanted to get some peace," Ginny said.

"Understandable."

They watched the dancing crowd, spotting Luna's jolly hat every so often. In contrast to his reluctance to dance during the last ball, Ron only left the dancing area to get drinks for him and Lavender. Suddenly, Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione, staggering through the doors, looking abashed - then a couple hindered his view. He jumped up and hurried towards her. Her hair was no longer neat; a smudge decorated her left cheek; her eyes were empty.

"Hermione! Over here!"

"What's going on here?" she asked, scanning the room confused.

"Are you okay?" Harry supported her with his arm and examined her carefully. She seemed strange, somehow dazzled. Her breath smelled badly of alcohol.

"Is it the Yule ball already?" she asked, obviously baffled by what she saw.

"Of course! You came here with us and already danced, remember?" Harry slowly guided her towards their table, where Ginny and Simon were now standing, watching them anxiously.

"You're drunk," Ginny observed when Hermione swayed and let herself fall onto a chair. "Where have you been this past hour?"

"I…I don't know," she said, perplexed by herself. "I vaguely remember dancing. Then I walked outside and sat on the stairs. But then there's nothing until just now."

A drinking Hermione, and then she couldn't remember anything, just wasn't right. Harry remembered the Slytherins drinking Confundus Draught. Did they maybe pour some into the punch? Or leave a cup unattended and Hermione accidentally picked it up?

"You have to get rid off the alcohol. Here, drink some water and them we'll dance. That should get your sober," he advised.

Ginny and Hermione looked at Simon expectantly. He shrugged, "If you think so", and took Hermione by the hand. Luckily, it was another love song playing. Hermione was staggering so badly that Simon had to hold her in a tight embrace to keep her from falling. Harry and Ginny followed them as closely as they could. Slowly, the dazed look in Hermione's eyes deceased and she kept them fixed on Simon. Harry felt better and turned his attention to his own dancing partner. They went through two more songs, when Harry noticed Ron standing still and staring at Simon and Hermione. Lavender was desperately trying to regain his interest. Fearing a fight, Harry stopped moving and carefully picked his way towards Ron, pulling Ginny behind him.

"What are you staring at? You're having quite the time with Lavender here, so don't you dare ruin Hermione's night," Harry said threateningly. "You've already hurt her bad enough."

"Not as bad as I'll hurt him," Ron retorted.

"If you don't stop acting like an idiot, you'll only chase her into someone else's arms."

"Oh, I think he already did," Ginny informed them.

Ron was paralyzed; Harry had to swallow hard, by what they saw as they found Simon and Hermione in the crowd of prancing couples.

Hermione had both her arms slung around Simon's neck and was leaning her head against his shoulder. One hand on her hip, he used the other to slowly pull her head away from his shoulder, so that she faced him. Then he bent down and brushed her lips in a soft, shy kiss. For a split second Hermione appeared to be too stunned to react, and then she pulled him closer, leaning into the kiss.

That was when Ron lost it. He stormed forwards and ripped Hermione away, out of Simon's arms. Simon pushed Ron backwards and immediately pulled his wand out of a pocket and levelled it at Ron, who had done the same. Ginny dragged Hermione, who had turned into a bystander, out of harms way. All Ron and Simon did, was stare at each other with drawn wands. Simon because he was waiting for Ron to make the first move and finish the fight he had started, Ron because he wasn't sure if he'd stand a chance against the older student.

Tears were gathering in Hermione's eyes and she wiped them away with her sleeve. She was still confused, the events were happening too fast for her. Only when she noticed that Harry was clutching his forehead in pain, did she focus on him.

"Harry, is it your scar?"

"It's burning like hell. Voldemort is happy. Something must have happened," he groaned.

"What are you waiting for? Go to Dumbledore!"

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine on my own," Hermione assured him.

"I heard that once before tonight," he reminded her.

Hermione stomped one foot, than grabbed Harry by his sleeve and dragged him behind her towards the headmaster, who was talking to Professor McGonagall at the top of the hall.

It didn't take more than a quick glance, and Dumbledore knew what had happen. "Where's Severus?" he asked McGonagall.

"He broke up the fight and just left for his office, I assume. Weasley and Lestrange in tow," Professor McGonagall answered.

* * *

The four hastened down the corridors leading to Professor Snape's office. There, Dumbledore gave the door a sharp knock and then entered without waiting for a reply.

Snape was standing in front of his desk, leaning against it. The two culprits were standing in front of him, as far away from each other as the walls allowed. Ron, noticeably more nervous than Simon, shifted uneasy from one foot to the other.

"Unfortunately, there are more urgent matters to attend, Severus," Dumbledore informed the Potions Master.

Snape wasn't exactly happy to let them go, but motioned the two boys out of his office. After having been filled in, Snape mustered Harry.

"We can't tell for sure what this is about, but tomorrow is Christmas and I can believe that Voldemort would strike on such a merry day," Dumbledore affirmed. "It is still very important that you learn Occlumency. We've been through this before, so I know how you feel about it, but I have to ask you to practice it and make a much stronger effort." Harry nodded, Dumbledore's voice was so sincere and he only hoped that Snape wouldn't be appointed his teacher again. "We'll find a solution which will agree with everyone. I suggest you return to your Common Room now, the ball will be over soon anyway. Remember to clear your mind each time before sleeping from now on," Dumbledore instructed him. "I have a few more things to discuss with Severus."

Harry felt left out and that he had been treated unfairly. Why couldn't he stay and listen to what Dumbledore probably assumed Voldemort was up to?

_**TBC**_

* * *

**AN:** Wow, lots of emotions in this one, but trust me, the next chapter will finally bring some darker moments.

**Next:** Trelawney makes an appearance and has a prophecy to share, while Voldemort finally gets his share of attention.

**Limited Offer for Easter: Submit a review now and get a free, new chapter soon!**


	11. Dinner for 13

**Chapter 11 - Dinner for 13 - **_Summary: Trelawny makes an appearance and has a prophecy to share while Voldemort finally gets his share of attention._

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_Thanks are owed to moonysgirl159 for finding the time to beta this, next to all her schoolwork._

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**Please note**: There will be mentioning of death and torture in the following chapter, though no explicit or graphic descriptions.

* * *

Harry woke up early the next morning. He hadn't gotten much sleep, being haunted by nightmares featuring flashes of masked Death Eaters, torture, pain, murder and happiness. The latter bore the significant evidence that Voldemort had indeed made a horrific, successful move. Harry opened the curtains and looked out of the window, groggy from his exhausting sleep. Crabbe's snores were echoing from across the room. He sighed. The burden of having known that something happened last night was heavy on his heart. If he could just remember details - or better have these visions in advance, so he could prevent the happenings. Now, he only knew that somewhere someone had suffered a horrible, painful death His shoulders were crunched as he let his feet plunge onto the cold floor and made to get up. Before he could make a step forward, he noticed something at the end of his bed.

Harry quickly grabbed his glasses, put them on and sighed again, but this time in relief. It was only a pile of presents. Of course, it was still Christmas. Not feeling particularly in the mood, he began to unwrap the first package. It was from Hermione: an extensive collection of curses, counter curses, defensive spells, their effects and specialities. It was very detailed, but still did not require more than a quick glance to find all there was to know about a certain spell. Harry could only imagine how much time Hermione had spent on gathering all this information.

The next present was from Mrs. Weasley. She had sent him another jumper, this time green, but lacking any kind of embroidering, plus a very small chocolate tree. Harry bit his lower lip. Apparently, Mrs. Weasley had heard about his fight with her youngest son, but also about Ginny's affection. There was a note telling him she was sorry he couldn't join them for Christmas. Apparently, Ron had explained all about his desperately needed extra studies for Potions, but she hope he'd be able to enjoy the break nonetheless. Harry arched his eyebrows. Ron was such a coward. Instead of facing Harry, he'd simply kept his mother's invitation quiet and spun a silly tale. Harry made a mental note to send a warm thank-you note with Hedwig later that day; it wasn't Mrs. Weasleys' fault after all. He reached for another present, wrapped badly in newspaper. It was a fountain pen from the Dursleys. He shrugged and put it on his nightstand.

Ginny had given him a beautiful snow globe. Inside, two small silhouettes, not unlike Ginny and himself, were standing side by side and would start to dance among the falling snowflakes when you shook it slightly. He let himself fall back onto his bed and admired it dreamily, remembering the night before. Suddenly, the door opened and Simon strode in, throwing a small, longish package at Harry, who hastily hid the snow globe underneath his sheets and coughed.

"Merry Christmas," Simon said cheerily.

"Thanks," Harry replied, his cheeks still blushing in embarrassment.

He opened Simon's gift. It looked like a fountain pen. But why in Merlin's beard would Simon give him a pen? Or rather, would Simon know what a fountain pen was? Confused, Harry placed it beside him on the bed. In the meantime, Simon had stepped to the window. Now, he turned back around and his eyes fell on Harry's nightstand.

"Oh, you already got one," Simon said, somewhat taken aback.

"I got one what?"

"A Potions Sensor. Right here," Simon told him, pointing at the fountain pen.

"No, this is a fountain pen. Muggles write with it. Here, try it out," Harry said laughingly and handed the pen over.

Simon tried to write on a spare bit of parchment, but only produced scratching noises.

"Morons! Simon, do I have to curse you to make you stop?" Malfoy's disgruntled face emerged from behind the curtains of his four-poster, his hands covering his ears.

Simon ignored his cousin, who retreated to his beauty sleep. "It doesn't work, you should return it."

Harry laughed. "No, here, you have to push here, and then it should work."

Simon tried again and this time successfully wrote his name, though he usually had much nicer handwriting. "Well, I prefer quills," he commented and handed the pen back.

"So, what's a Potion Sensor then?" Harry inquired, picking Simon's present back up.

"_This_ is a Potion sensor. You dip it inside a potion, push the button and it analyses its contents and then gives you feedback," Simon explained, leaning against the wall. "Severus gave it to me once, but I don't need it anymore."

"Cool, thanks!" Harry answered and put it aside safely. Then he picked up Hagrid's present, weighing it in his hands. It was heavy. The creaking of mattresses told them that the other boys were slowly returning to consciousness. Harry ripped the wrapping paper aside and was able to get a quick look at a leather-bound book before it vanished with a poof.

"What the…Potter!"

The book had reappeared on Malfoy's face, who was just in the process of finally waking up and threw it off onto the floor. It hardly touched ground, when it vanished again, only to resurface on Harry's nightstand. Just as Harry tried to catch it, the book disappeared yet again, resurfacing on Malfoy's pillow. Problem was, Malfoy was lying back down in frustration and instead of falling onto soft feathers, his head collided with the hard cover of the book. Before Malfoy could snatch it and throw it angrily at Harry, the book exploded, littering Malfoy's bed with paper snippets.

Simon's lips were twitching, but he managed to look serious when he stopped the book with a strong Stunner, then summoned it and handed it to Harry. Chuckling, he said, "Nice gift. A self-apparating book. Better put it into your trunk, it won't get out of there easily."

Harry shook his head, disbelieving. "What did you get by the way?"

"Oh, the usual — another potions book from Severus and a set of clothes form my parents. Let's go down for breakfast, I'm starving. And I still have to pack, Terry and I will be leaving for home right afterwards."

* * *

Hardly inside the Great Hall, they were surprised by the uncustomary chill and quiet inside. Most students were already gathered, but bore a glum impression, while picking their breakfast. Simon furrowed his eyebrows, trying to detect the cause. Harry, on the other hand, was reminded of his nightmare. Apparently, last nights events had made the news fast. They took their accustomed seats and Simon reached for a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"That explains it," he stated gravely.

_**Entire Family killed by Death Eater**_

_Followers of You-Know-Who perpetrated two assaults on Christmas Eve, killing seven, injuring six badly._

_The first attack was on the home of Ministry worker Smith and his family, located in the lowlands of Scotland. Smith, his wife, a Muggle, and her family were gathered to celebrate the holidays together, when the Death Eaters attacked late at night. Aurors, who were first at the scene, discovered traces of a desperate fight for their lives and finally found the slaughtered bodies in the basement. Details are too gruesome to print. Next to Steven Smith, Department of Muggle Relations, his wife, his mother-in-law, his brother-in-law and his twenty-year old daughter were practically executed. His younger son was still residing at Hogwarts at the time of the attack, due to return home today._

_Almost simultaneously, a second group of Death Eaters set a Muggle tenement in Gloucester on fire. Everyone attempting to leave the building was tortured with some of the most ghastly curses and forced to stay inside. Fortunately, one of the attackers was under surveillance by the Auror office, thus help could be called in immediately. However, six Muggles had to be taken to the hospital, bearing heavy burns. Even worse, two women were trapped inside the building and could not be rescued alive from the flames._

_Two suspects have been arrested, but their names are being held back for the time being._

* * *

Harry let the newspaper slide down and out of his hands. An entire family. Voldemort had just extinguished an entire family. This was more horrible than he had expected. And it only seemed to be the beginning, but what more was there to come? He let his eyes sway to the Hufflepuff table, looking for Zacharias Smith. His suspicions were confirmed, when he couldn't spot the boy anywhere. He turned his attention to his porridge. He wasn't hungry, no, but he was afraid of all the feelings that would probably overwhelm him, should he happen to catch someone's eye. A door opened at the end of the hall and Dumbledore entered. He didn't lose much time, walked straight up in front of the school. There was no need to call for attention. It had been as quite as never before, four House tables too shocked to speak and the Slytherins not yet daring to show their true feelings openly.

"Judging by your faces, you have already heard the bad news. One of you lost his entire family last night. I do not have to explain the seriousness of the situation to you, nor can I give you helping advice. But let me give you this warning: I believe that Voldemort has deliberately chosen a time we usually consider peacefully and happy to spread his terror. Keep eyes and ears open, always be ready to defend yourself and your loved ones." His voice was grave, his eyes tired. After his speech he went down to the Hufflepuff table and exchange a few quick words with their Prefects. Then he approached the Slytherin table.

"Mr. Lestrange, I'd like a word in private," he said.

Simon swallowed hard, nodded and got up, following Dumbledore through the door he had previously entered the Great Hall. With another disgusted look at his porridge, Harry got up himself and sat next to Hermione at the Phoenix table. She was all by herself, engrossed in her copy of the newspaper.

"How are you holding up?"

"Better. I still feel dazed, but only slightly. What bothers me most is that I can't remember what happened…"

"It'll work out," he comforted her. "Thanks for the present."

"Hermione, hurry up! Dad will pick us up at the station in less than an hour!" Ginny had moved up to them.

"What? When did we agree on that?"

"I just got an owl. He said he'll pick us up in Hogsmeade and that we would take you home as well."

" I'm just going to get my stuff and we can take off," Hermione said, gulped down her pumpkin juice and hurried away.

"Thanks for the snow globe, it's really beautiful," Harry told Ginny, his eyes looking everywhere but at her.

Ginny blushed and shared his interested in the floor. To break their awkward silence, she quickly told him the first exciting thing that popped into her head.

"I met Elenor Branstone just now. She said that Professor Sprout came late last night into their Common Room to collect Zacharias."

"Do you know how he is?"

"No. He's in the hospital wing. They gave him a Calming Draught. Looks like he's going to stay here over Christmas. I mean…" She broke off and helplessly shrugged.

Simon had returned form his private chat with the Headmaster and was now approaching them.

"What did Dumbledore want?" Harry asked flat out, trying to push the depressing thoughts out of his mind.

"He asked if I could teach you in Occlumency," Simon said lazily.

"Oh, that's perfect and so much better than another round of extra lessons with Snape!"

"Okay, Ginny. I'm all set. When are we leaving?" Hermione was back, dragging her trunk behind her.

Simon took a step backwards. "Hi."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Ginny uttered.

"No, maybe not. But that doesn't change that it was a mistake. You naturally still have feelings for Ron, that's okay. I went along with the dancing-and-making-jealous-show, but the kiss wasn't called for," Simon said to Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Sure."

Luckily, the girls had to hurry to meet Mr. Weasley, so they were saved from an enraged Ginny, who would otherwise have given them her opinion on the matter.

_How thick can you be?_ Harry though forcefully, without intending to use Legilimency.

_What?_

_Didn't you see the look in her eyes? Last night and just now? She likes you;_ Harry spelled it out for Simon.

* * *

More and more students left the castle during the course of the day. Unfortunately for Harry, all signs were indicating that Malfoy would be keeping him company over the holidays. Lovely. This Christmas break promised to be the best one ever. Harry barricaded himself in the dormitory in front of a window, watching the snowflakes play outside.

* * *

For some reason, Malfoy let Harry be. Not a single word was exchanged when they met in their dormitory or the Common Room. They sat on opposite corners at the single table that was set up every day for the remaining students — a Hufflepuff, one Phoenix and two Ravenclaws - and teachers in the Great Hall. They both ignored each other.

At the end of the week, Zacharias Smith returned to Hogwarts. He was chalk-white and his eyes were deep holes. At dinner, everyone ate silently, only the occasional whisper was heard. Harry's eyes met Malfoy's and he almost dropped his fork.

_Deserves him right, stupid Mudblood. Pity, they didn't get him, too…_ Malfoy's voiced ricocheted in Harry's head.

The Slytherin's thoughts became worse, so that Harry shuddered and cut the connection. Anger rose inside him. He finished his dinner as fast as he could, than hurried out. He was afraid he'd attack Malfoy in front of everyone, if he'd stay any longer.

"Where you're going in such a hurry?"

Harry pivoted with his wand levelled at…Lupin.

"Woah! What are you doing here?"

"Take your wand down, will you? I have a meeting with Dumbledore and thought I'd look in on you as well. So, why are you so jumpy?" Lupin answered, smiling.

"Well, what can I say? I'm sharing a dormitory with a lunatic who's celebrating the latest attacks and all my friends are spread all over the country to have a lovely time with their families. So, I'd say I'm great!" Harry was surprised at himself for this outburst.

"Na, aren't you exaggerating a bit? I don't think any Wizarding family is currently having a carefree time. The worries about follow-up attacks are immense."

Harry shook his head violently. "Whatever. You know the Malfoys."

Lupin made a defeated gesture.

"Are there news about the Christmas-attacks?" Harry decided to take a new direction and move his thoughts away from Malfoy.

"No. The two Death Eaters they caught are in Azkaban. They were only minor ones, hence no new information. They received their orders from a hooded person, never saw a face or recognized a voice, so it's almost nothing."

They had started to stroll along the corridor and now reached the library.

"You know, I was over at the Burrow the other day. Did you have another fight with Ron?" Lupin asked apprehensively.

Harry pursued his lips. "Kinda. Ron's got a problem with Simon…" He stopped when Lupin arched an eyebrow. "Simon Lestrange. Ron hates him because Simon's around a lot. Then Hermione and Ron broke up over a silly bit of jealousy on Ron's side. Now, Hermione does like Simon, maybe she even has a slight crush on him, but it's a one-way thing. Simon's not interested in her," Harry explained. It sounded stupid, but it was the facts.

"Relationship trouble — the usual at this age, I guess." Lupin smiled. "How's Mr. Lestrange these days?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I knew him as a teacher, didn't I? He was a smart one, though not very into _Defence_ against the Dark Arts. Simon reminded me a lot of Severus, as he was back at your age."

"What are you trying to say?" Harry asked coldly.

"Just that three years ago, Mr. Lestrange was extraordinarily engrossed into the Dark Arts and drawn to students from Slytherin. Now, he is a Slytherin. That gets people to wonder."

"People change. There's nothing anyone can do about what was three years ago. If he really still was on the Dark Side, he would have never helped me with Potions, but rather poisoned me. He would have never joined and helped the DA _and_ he would never in his life taken Hermione to the Yule ball," Harry counted it down on his fingers, already becoming angry again.

* * *

"I'm just telling you to be careful whom you trust so easily. He's no dunderhead and always kept his feelings to himself. That's all. But of course, you're right. People can change."

Lupin would stay a few days at Hogwarts, researching in the library. On his last day, which happened to be New Year's Eve, everyone was gathered for dinner in the Greta Hall by invitation from Dumbledore. Harry was the last to enter. Zacharias had recovered to some extent and was talking to his fellow Hufflepuff. Even Professor Trelawney had descended form her tower to join them. Harry scanned the table and noticed that he would be the thirteenth person to be seated at the table. He hid a grin and hoped Professor Trelawney wouldn't become aware of this. She was seated next to a grumpy-looking Snape, who was already cheesed off by her continuous talk. Next to him, Dumbledore was chatting animatedly with Lupin and Professor McGonagall. The only free chair was next to Malfoy. Harry sighed and took his seat. The food appeared and everyone tucked in. Harry listened to Trelawney's mutterings about crystal balls (things looked dark for everyone present), impending doom, Snape's horoscope (he should be wary of a blonde, small women wearing green) and various tea leave interpretations. When she asked Snape to drink up so she could read his leaves, Snape, who had had enough, gave her a sharp, menacing look. The poor woman almost choked on her Sherry, muttering something that sounded like 'No wonder no one ever talks to him voluntarily.' All in all, there would have been nothing special about this particular dinner, if not for dessert.

All the sudden, Professor Trelawney jerked her hands upwards, her body became all rigid and her eyes rolled around in their sockets. She started to speak in an eerie voice.

_"Torn by shadows and darkness. Pierced by a burning desire - his longing - for respect and acceptance._

_Two, bound by trust - though not by blood - now separated by acts of treachery. Murderer and creator combined in the one, his sacrifice will unleash new powers in the other, stronger than before. Once united, they will become enemies to death._

_There he is, trapped between heaven and hell - now and in eternity - trying to defy his never-ending thirst, until rescued by the love of a woman, freed from his torture …- two - … bound by trust… - …but divided by betrayal… - …between heaven and hell …- …his thirst will never decease …"_

As abruptly as she had started, she stopped. Trelawney reached for her Sherry, took a sip and startled as she noticed twelve bewildered faces staring at her, open-mouthed.

"Yes?"

* * *

TBC

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Well? Any thoughts or speculations — I'd love to hear them all. :- )

**Next:** A tale of snooping around, taking sides and breaking apart.


	12. Turning Point

jaderook: This is definitely more of an Darker/Angstier/Untrusted!Harry-story. Nice speculations, but not quite right…

Amanda: Thanks! One of the hardest things in fiction is probably avoiding clichés and Mary Sue.

krachum: Yep, exactly. Believing that you can turn them all around is just not realistic.

Lizzete: Thank you, too! Hope you like the coming twists and turns. hehe

AZN.THANG: Glad you like it, updates are coming, though not too frequent – exams are keeping me busy.

KitKat2006: Hallo! Lieb von dir, hier sieht es mit reviews wirklich etwas mager aus (vor allem wenn man die Anzahl der Klicks betrachtet ehem), aber in einem gewissen anderen Archiv haben wir gerade die 100-Marke geknackt – Party!

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_Many, many thanks are owed to moonysgirl159 for beating this chapter_

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**Summary: **Neville and Ron team up and accuse Simon of things he can never be blamed for; but ... where there's smoke, there's a fire. Or is it?

* * *

_Wenn böse Zungen sich verknoten und die Dummheit zirkuliert,  
siegt in jedem schwachen Herzen die Intoleranz. Ein Angriff als Verteidigung;  
und die Schlacht beginnt._

(Lacrimosa)

* * *

The pondering and musing about Trelawney's words caused Harry to wake up with a throbbing headache. He had spent the major part of the night trying to figure out the meaning of last night's prophecy; who was involved and so on. Finally, he had fallen into an uneasy sleep, twisting around in the sheets. Holding his head with one hand, he got up and carefully climbed the stairs to the Great Hall. Lupin was the only one up this early, already clad in his travelling cloak and thoughtfully nibbling on a toast.

"Morning, Harry. Sorry, but you look awful," Lupin said.

Harry blew a strand of hair from his eyes, slumped onto the bench and reached for a slice toast.

"That was her third true prophecy last night," Harry stated.

Lupin smiled, he hadn't expected anything else but for Harry to be trying to solve the mystery on his own accord. "I sat with a few teachers until late last night. Professor Snape came up with a plausible assumption. But we didn't determine who or what exactly it could mean. I think it's a self-fulfilling prophecy, though."

When Harry looked at him questioningly, Lupin grinned. "Hey, hey. You really are lost without Hermione, aren't you? How about paying attention during your lessons for a change? Well, there are different kinds of prophecies. First, there are the ones that are not solved until they happen. Then, the ones that are more detailed, more exact, those you can influence. Take the one about you and Voldemort for example."

"How can I influence that one?"

"Fulfilment and time are naturally unknown, but you know _what_ is going to happen, so you can train and gather knowledge along the way, which will give you a better chance to survive and this will influence its outcome."

* * *

Harry needed to get his head free of any more speculations as to how the new prophecy could be related to the last one and what it meant. The Common Room was occupied by Malfoy, who was seated in a back corner, almost hidden behind a stack of books and scattered parchments. He was staring thoughtfully at a wall. Harry decided to retire to his dormitory and try to write a few paragraphs for one of his essays. Hardly a few minutes after he had neatly laid out a role of parchment, a book and a quill on front of him, Malfoy walked through the door. Once again ignoring the pale boy, Harry tried to focus on the task at hand, but his thoughts kept wandering back to the night before. Then, he was distracted by creepy sounds coming from Malfoy's end of the room. Apparently, he had received a wireless radio for Christmas and had chosen now of all times to try it out.

"Can't you move that to the Common Room? I was here first," Harry moaned. The screeching 'music' was a nightmare for even a banshee's ears.

Malfoy glared at him and with a tiny movement of his wand, the music grew louder. Harry closed his eyes, trying to keep his self-control. He knew Malfoy was in for a fight, but Harry wasn't stupid enough to go for it. Harry yanked at the curtains of his four-poster, but only ripped them. Malfoy laughed, causing Harry to forget all about cautious behaviour. With a grim expression, he pulled his wand and levelled it at Malfoy.

"Potter, you're cute when you're angry, you know that?" Malfoy taunted and directed his own wand in Harry's direction.

"Well, let's see if you still think that when I'm done with you," Harry hissed back. "_Locomotor mortis_!"

Malfoy, expecting an attack, had no trouble wielding the spell off. It bounced off his shield and back at Harry who lost his balance and toppled off his bed, sending his wand flying underneath it. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment and rage. He had once again lost in a duel with Malfoy. It was pure humiliation. Malfoy had stepped up to him and was now poking his wand into Harry's skull.

"Oh, Potter. Don't you ever learn? You're no match for me. No dumb, clumsy Longbottom and no superhero Simon around to help you this time so I say we have some fun," Malfoy announced, the grin on his face growing wider with each word.

"Draco, don't you ever learn either? Holding speeches won't get you anywhere. Step back."

Malfoy spun around, on his face grew ugly spots of anger as he saw Simon standing lazily in the doorway, his arms crossed lightly in front of him.

"Hi, missed me?" Simon said, smirking.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy spat.

"Sally gave birth over the holidays to our little sister. She's a cute baby but you can't get any homework done with her crying all the time, so Terry and I decided to return earlier. Now, move it, Draco," Simon replied, pulling his wand form beneath his travelling cloak.

Malfoy gave in, though clearly mad that Simon had just ruined another chance for him to apply some serious damage to Harry. He lowered his wand and left the room.

"_Finite Incantatem_." Simon released Harry from the spell and helped him back up. His legs still felt like jelly.

"Thanks. Mrs. Boot gave birth? I didn't even know she was expecting," Harry inquired, thinking about the earlier comment.

"Yeah, sorry. You know I don't like to talk about private stuff." Simon scratched the back of his head, seeming a bit lost in the situation. "I have a picture if you'd like to see it?" He said and produced a photograph of himself tentatively holding a tiny, red-faced infant in his arms. Sally Boot was standing behind them, laughing happily.

* * *

It was the last evening before the other students would return to Hogwarts, when Simon took the chair next to Harry by the fire to discuss their Occlumency lessons.

"It's time we got started with Occlumency," he began. "Dumbledore asked that we would practice at least twice a week. I don't think more will be possible anyway. I mean, next to Quidditch practice and the DA for both of us, there's also keeping up to scratch with Potions for you. And I'll have my N.E.W.T.s in three months time."

"Already?"

"Yes. That's why we should get a move on. I won't have much time once I start revising. Meaning you should master the basics soon so we can cut down on the tutoring as soon as possible and then I can concentrate on my exams."

Harry squinted at this. The doomed lessons with Snape and his inability to empty his mind successfully even once were still vividly in his memory.

"Oh, come on," Simon laughed. "Don't you worry about _that_. Severus didn't manage to teach you Potions, either. But look at you now. You'll be fine. How about starting tomorrow and then every Monday and Thursday evening?"

Harry agreed; though he was not yet as convinced as Simon that he'd manage.

* * *

No sooner said than done. Following dinner the next evening, Simon led Harry to a deserted classroom in the dungeons. They sat down at a table, facing each other. Simon came straight to the point.

"Just to make things clear. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Sometimes, your mind is as open as a book on displayed for public viewing."

Harry was dismayed; he had heard these words before.

"So, what horrible things did Severus do to you last year?" Simon asked with amusement dancing in his eyes.

Harry's eyes widened and his pulse quickened in anger as he thought back to Snape invading his mind and him failing to hinder him over and over again. The humiliation, Snape's obvious delight…

A grin curled around Simon's lips. "Don't worry. That was a rhetoric question. I believe he took the wrong approach using Legilimency with such a force right away. But then, maybe he just likes to see you fail."

Harry whistled lowly. Had Simon been able to access that much information in such little time? He really had to work on this and began to understand what Snape had meant, when telling him that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"No, seriously. You have to understand that Legilimency is the forceful invasion of someone's mind, if you're skilled in it, almost no one can stop you. The invaded won't even know you're there. Severus has mastered this skill on a superior level, he had to, or he wouldn't have lasted long as a spy. He probably attacked you with it, to prepare you for the worst. But I think we should get started with the basics."

Harry was biting his lips in concentration, intending to milk Simon for all the information he could give him. He nodded eagerly and pulled his wand out; ready to face what he thought would come.

"No, you can leave that aside. We have to work on your will-power first. So…" Simon got up and paced the room, thinking. "What's you favourite colour?" He suddenly shot the question at Harry.

Harry was taken by surprise, trying to understand what this question had to do with Legilimency. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could utter a sound, Simon answered for him.

"Green, right? I made you think about something specific. You were surprised and confused, still you thought about the answer. This is the oldest trick there is to gain information," Simon elaborated.

Harry nodded slowly, embarrassed that he had fallen for it. "How do I prevent this?"

"By being prepared for everything. Let's take another example. I could ask you where you're storing your Firebolt and before you would answer, I'd know that it's next to the closet in your dorm."

"No, it's not," Harry answered bemused.

"I know; it's only an example. It's underneath your bed." Simon was smiling.

Harry felt stupid. He had failed again. "Does this mean that I shouldn't think about the answer at all?"

"Yes and no. It's like…you have to think on a higher level than the other person, which is the major problem. As soon as you accomplish that, you're a huge step closer to closing your mind. The first thing you have to do is control your emotions. Emotions like being confused, mad, annoyed, scared and so on are the entrance - if you want to call it that — to your mind. They are the easiest way to access and poof - you're in." Simon snapped his fingers at that. "If you want to close your mind, wearing your heart on your sleeve is a foolish thing to do, so these emotions have to vanish from your face completely."

Simon sat back down, opposite Harry. "Lean back, get comfortable. Take a deep breath and try to calm yourself."

Harry did as he was told, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was uncertain if he was already calm enough and Simon's silence didn't help. Harry wrinkled his nose uneasily.

"There's nothing here to make you uneasy. We're alone and I'm not going to harm you." Simon finally broke his silence.

Harry opened his eyes. Sitting in front of someone with closed eyes wasn't easy. Not even when you knew the person and trusted them. He still had Snape's attacks in mind and his subconscious, evaluating the situation based on former experiences, told him to be on his guard. He sighed helplessly.

"Okay, let's try again. Take as long as you need and nod whenever you ready," Simon said in a calm, low voice.

Harry pressed his lips together, determined to succeed this time. He closed his eyes again, shook his head in an attempt to get rid of all the thoughts swirling in his head and exhaled a deep breath. He felt himself become calmer bit by bit. There was no noise whatsoever. Nothing to disturb him or his thoughts. He nodded. He opened his eyes.

"Why did you fight with Draco?" Simon's voice as still low, barely cutting the quietness of the room.

Harry avoided Simon's eyes and thought about the question. He remembered every little detail about every confrontation he had had with Malfoy over the past weeks. Gradually, he felt the well-known anger raise inside him.

"That wasn't so bad," Simon interrupted him.

"Did you see something?"

"It took me a while until I found a gap to pierce through, but I did, yes," Simon answered.

"My anger?"

"No, first it was uncertainty, the anger was not until later," Simon explained.

"I wasn't uncertain," Harry defended himself.

"You wish. You doubt yourself and your skills, especially now, after having lost a few duels against Draco," Simon reminded him.

"Mmh." Harry had to agree. Not coming out the winner in these recent fights, had indeed left him doubting and fearing the outcome of the prophecy.

"You already faced You-Know-Who a few times and if I can believe Dumbledore's words from a few years back, you were rather successful then." Simon tried to lift Harry's self esteem.

Harry only shook his head, letting his thoughts travel on memory lane: the song of a Phoenix, Cedric's death, a golden cage. Nothing he had gotten out of all by himself.

"No, I was always just lucky." Harry rubbed his eyes with his hands and sighed.

"What kind of cage was that?" Simon asked.

"Priori Incantatem."

"Hmm, it was certainly an achievement but Cedric's death throws huge shadows on it," Simon mused.

They continued practicing for another hour. Harry never managed to withhold Simon's invasions for long. Finally, Simon called it a night.

"That's enough for today. You know now what you have to work on, try to observe your own emotions during the next days and write them down and add what you were doing at that moment, what happened and maybe even why."

* * *

Everyday life was back all too soon. In the course of the following day, the Hogwarts students returned from their Christmas break, bringing back adventurous stories and rumours of attacks. Hermione and Ginny found Harry in the library.

"Hey, how was your break?" Ginny greeted him happily.

"Okay, nothing out of the ordinary," Harry answered, glad not to be alone anymore and to see her again. "What about yours?"

"Oh, well, Ron and I constantly jumped down each other throats because of Hermione. At some point, my mum freaked and allowed me to stay at Hermione's for a few days."

"Cool. What was it like?" He asked, trying to imagine the witch amidst Muggles.

"Fun! Though, I still can't imagine what it would be like to live like a Muggle," Ginny reported, but then her grin faded and with a side glance at Hermione, she added, "She received an owl from Simon."

"Really? I had no idea. What did it say?" Harry looked at Hermione expectantly, but Ginny answered for her.

"Well, she was pondering the entire time if she should maybe choose Simon and go out with him. You see, he was nice to her and they kind of clicked. You know?"

Harry smiled at that. Simon and Hermione had indeed many things in common, he could picture them nicely sitting side by side in the library discussing some theory and exchanging shy glances once in a while.

"In that letter, Simon asked Hermione not to get her hopes up. He had just gotten out of a long term relationship and didn't really want anything new as of yet and the kiss at the ball…was…more like a…slip," Ginny continued, obviously not happy with the situation.

Harry dared a fleeting look at Hermione. Her eyes were so sad.

_Hermione was sitting in her room and her bed. She was holding a piece of parchment in her hands, starring at it in disbelief. Ginny entered the room and sat next to her. Hermione gave her the letter without a word. _

Harry stopped there, quickly looking away, already feeling horribly at sneaking into her thoughts.

_Harry! You are not supposed to be practicing Legilimency, but Occlumency! _Simon's words echoed in Harry's head. Looking up, he saw Simon who had approached them.

"I think it's a bad moment. Shall I leave?" Simon asked, addressing Hermione.

"No. Stay. It's okay," Hermione replied. "I mean, you were right, after all."

"Hermione! Did you forget our talk already?" Ginny was gnashing her teeth.

"No." Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ginny, annoyed. "Am I not allowed to talk to him, then?"

Ginny wanted to go on arguing, but a swift look at the two boys silenced her. Instead, she thought of a new topic.

"When will you be starting with Occlumency?"

"We already did. Yesterday," Harry answered.

"Why did Dumbledore think of you?" Hermione asked.

"It wasn't his idea, but Severus'," Simon explained. "Dumbledore himself has enough on his hands as it is and Severus and Harry don't trust each other enough for this."

"Don't you have to be able to apply Legilimency to teach someone how to use Occlumency?" Ginny asked.

"Simon is as good at that, too," Harry said without thinking.

"Accomplished Legilimens are rare," Hermione stated, viewing Simon with interested eyes. Harry could tell that it wasn't only academic curiosity.

"That's true. And by far, I'm not as good as Harry claims I am," Simon uttered, shooting Harry an angry look. _And most importantly, you shouldn't be barking it into world. You should know better than that. People will be even more hostile towards me when they hear about this._

_Why?_ Harry didn't understand the problem.

_I am a Lestrange. That's why. People are already suspicious of whatever I do — if it's eating porridge or being friends with you. When they find out hat I'm a Legilimens, they certainly won't like it. Things could get worse for you then as well. _

"Why are you staring at each other like that?" Ginny inquired about the chat she couldn't hear.

"Not important," Harry waved her question away.

* * *

All his work kept Harry extremely busy from then on. Next to his homework assignments, he had to prepare the DA meetings, with Hermione's help, of course, Quidditch, observe his emotions and keep track of them and practice his Occlumency. To avoid unnecessary distractions from Malfoy & Co, Harry often sought refuge in the library. Ginny, Hermione and Simon kept him much appreciated company every now and then. The tension between Hermione and Simon increased with every time the two met. Simon's feelings on this matter were unattainable for Harry, but Hermione almost drowned him in her emotions. There was respect, longing, maybe even a bit of love and more and more desperation radiating from her. When fear of rejection joined in, Harry decided it was time to have a chat with Simon. But he postponed this talk further and further, not knowing how to address this problem.

* * *

By the end of January, the snow had almost entirely melted. As a replacement, rain was knocking on the windows and stormy winds raged outside, causing a few trees to fall. Harry was seated in the Common Room, a book open in his lap. But instead of reading it, his eyes were directed towards the dark window, watching the outline of trees in the distance bending back and forth. Simon joined him, handing him a cup of Confundus Draught.

"Thanks," Harry said, his eyes still following the movements outside. Simon got back up and Harry finally turned his attention to his surroundings.

"Hold on. There's something I want to talk to you about." Harry stopped Simon from leaving. The other boy sat back down, waiting. Harry still had no idea how to approach this topic, but he had to get this over with. "I need to talk to you about Hermione. She's having a hard time and I think it's partly your fault."

Simon tilted his head. "I know. What I don't know is what to do about it."

"What do you think of her?"

"She's a nice girl, intelligent, enquiring…"A faint smile spread across Simon's features.

"And still you rejected her. Even though you know she-" Harry stopped himself. He had almost said 'loves you', except that would have been wrong.

"She likes me a lot. But it takes two, so…" Simon broke off. "I have no such feelings for her. I don't want to get her hopes up and then hurt her. She'll get over it. Then, we can stay friends. Not more, not less."

Harry thought about his words. Maybe Simon was right and Hermione simply had to learn to live with it. He sighed and took another sip form his cup.

* * *

The week following his talk with Simon, Harry had to find the nerve to let Hermione in on the good news. While they were looking up spells in the library, he explained to her and Ginny Simon's distant behaviour. Hermione took it with composure. Ginny was outraged. It took them a few minutes to calm Ginny down and convince her that this way would be best for everyone. At the beginning of the next DA meeting, however, Harry wasn't so sure anymore. Everyone was already gathered when he arrived, excluding Hermione.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron jumped at him.

"Dunno," Harry answered, puzzled.

"She can't come today; she has other things on her mind." Ginny grimaced.

Harry immediately saw the need to lie; the true reason was seated in his customary corner engrossed in a book.

"Yeah right. There's nothing more important to her than these meetings." Ron had no intention of backing down. "Where is she?"

"It's all Lestrange's fault," Dennis Creevey whispered, checking warily if Simon's was watching them.

"Take that back," Anthony Goldstein intervened.

"No." Dennis shook his head vehemently.

"Anthony, look at the facts: she's not herself anymore. Somebody influences her; he must have done something to her. He must have," Ron exclaimed loudly.

"This is the most ridiculous accusation ever," Terry said, scorning.

"He's a Legilimens," Neville suddenly shouted, silencing everyone. Ron looked at him, trying to make him shut up and obviously nervous at their revelation. "What, it's the truth. People should know," Neville backed himself up.

"Neville, please…" Harry tried to reduce the damage, still surprised by Neville's outburst. He should have known that Ron wouldn't keep his knowledge about a common 'enemy' quiet.

"Oh, cut it out! He messed with your head, too," Neville bawled.

"Ehm, what exactly is a Legili-thingy?" Susan Bones spoke up, timidly.

"The ability to spy on other people's thoughts and influence them." Ron used the most negative explanation that he could think of, trying to make Simon look even worse. "And if I'm not mistaken, he's got all of you already under his spell," he added.

"You've lost it. Completely lost it." Ginny had built herself up in front of her brother. "You're only mad because he kissed your Ex at the ball."

"Oho, watch it! Don't you know what a Legilimens can do to you when he kisses you?" Padma Patil had jumped up, her eyes looking around in excitement. "I read about it in a magazine, it's supposed to be the most intense feeling a person can feel." All the attention was on her now and she continued with a conspiratorial voice. "The Legilimens can see deep into you, all your soul is there - open for him to read. He has accesses to everything no matter how much you want to hide your secrets. E-ver-y-thing." She stressed each syllable of the last word. For a moment, it was quiet.

Then Luna laughed. "You should read the entire article next time. Simon can't have done that. A Legilimens, who can pull the personality of another person from a kiss, is extremely rare. He has to have mastered this skill to every extent _and_ he is only born under a certain star constellation. The last one was sixty years ago."

"Only you can fall for that," Padma retorted, embarrassed that she might have misunderstood something. "Legilimency is maybe a rare gift, but it can happen all the time. Just like being a Parselmouth."

"Who cares if he's a Legili-things. All that matters is that he's a Slytherin and will betray us all to no other than You-Know-Who," Zacharias said, his eyes a sea of anger and pain.

"He won't," Terry defended his brother again. "I know him well enough to tell."

"Just because he's your freaking brother doesn't make him a nice guy. Look at who his real parents are." Neville was breathing heavily and had a hard time not to curse Simon here and there.

"If he really is the good guy, why didn't he stay in Ravenclaw?" Padma asked the question of all questions.

The circle widened, giving the view free on Simon, who was still seated in his corner. The book lay forgotten on the table and he was watching the fight. Now, he got up.

"I guess I'll be going, then," he said.

"No, you aren't. How can your parents be your fault?" Harry asked.

"Oh, get going. No one's holding you back." Seamus gave his input now, too.

"You're staying," Terry supported Harry and held on to Simon's sleeve. "We can have another vote."

"Go ahead, but the majority obviously wants me to leave. It's okay," Simon said calmly.

"No, I don't want you to leave. Let's vote and if the majority really is against you staying, I'll go, too." Harry gave the round a challenging, determined look.

"Harry, you can't possibly mean that," Ginny cried lividly. "You can't leave. The group needs you."

"It doesn't matter if he stays or leaves with him. As long as he's under Lestrange's influence, he's gonna be no use as a Defence teacher," Seamus reasoned.

"What?"

"You heard me. Harry is no better than Lestrange. A Parselmouth in Slytherin. What do you expect?" Zacharias agreed.

"You can keep your accusations to yourself." Ginny's flushed cheeks matcher her flaming hair.

"Well, I have to say that Zach has a point," Hannah Abbott piped up. "I mean, all known Parselmouths have been on the Dark side. We've trusted one long enough. If Harry decides to bond with someone like him, it's his choices. But we don't have to risk our lives too."

"You are all insane," Harry murmured, disgusted by his friends' behaviour. "Let's go." Simon and Harry walked past the furious line of students and out of the door. As soon as it closed behind them, Harry let his anger burst out of him.

"What the heck is wrong with them?"

"Hey, calm down."

"How can you be so calm about this? They threw you out. They accused you of intolerable things, they…"

"Because I've seen it coming all along," Simon said loudly over Harry's ranting. "Neville hates me because of my parents; Ron because of Hermione. Then, there are many doubters not knowing what to believe and now sticking up for those they've known for years. It's the natural thing to do. It's okay. Really."

Harry's jaw dropped as far down as it could. Lost for words, he followed Simon down the stairs, away from the murmur behind them.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** There you go; Simon's not such a bad guy after all. He only had to deal with all these prejudices his entire life and expects nothing but hostility - who wouldn't become distant and master Occlumency and Legilimency as to avoid false friends. Hm? Come to think of it, maybe he's actually society's victim. :- ) Care to make me happy? Why not review?

* * *

The Quote is taken from a song by Lacrimosa and translates as follows:  
_When nasty tongues speak up and stupidity circulates,  
Intolerance will capture the weak heart.  
Then attack is the only defence and the battle begins._

* * *

**Next: Some kisses warm your heart and soul; some leave you empty and cold.**


	13. There's something about Justin

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate your comments and thoughts!**

krachum: Exactly! Even the good people sometimes judge too early, we often forget that.

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**Summary:** Some kisses warm your heart and soul; some leave you empty and cold.

A/N: This was written before Blaise' gender was determined by Rowling. In this story, Blaise is female.

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_Many, many thanks are owed to moonysgirl79 for beating this chapter._

* * *

**Warning: Dark Magic. Near Character Death. **

_Diese Augen haben es gesehen  
Doch diese Augen schließen sich  
Und das Schweigen wird unerträglich laut._

(Lacrimosa)

* * *

**Chapter 13 – There's something about Justin**

"Tell me it's a lie." Hermione had appeared in front of Harry and pushed him against a wall in the Entrance Hall.

"What?" Harry and Simon had stayed up late the night before, discussing what had happened. He hadn't slept well for quite some time now and was too tired for mind games.

"There's a rumour spreading that you renounced the DA," she accused him.

"That is not just a rumour," Harry determined.

"_Why_? You know we need you. We need the practice. You can't just leave it all behind," said Hermione, trying to talk sense into him.

"You weren't there and apparently they didn't tell you the whole story. You should have seen them, or better, heard them. All those nasty things they said about Simon, especially after they found out he's a Legilimens."

"Oh boy. How did he take it?"

"I wish I had his patience. He was absolutely calm and didn't seem to care. When they started harassing me, too, I couldn't stand it any longer and we left."

"Woah! What did they accuse _you_ of?" Hermione was bewildered.

"You know, me being the Parselmouth I am and now a Slytherin as well. And then befriending a Lestrange, seems it didn't lift my reputation. There's no other solution than me being a screwed up, bad guy," Harry said, the sarcasm all too clear in his voice.

"And how will it go on now? I'm sure there are still people who'd like to learn something from you."

"Not at all. Simple as that. I don't feel like teaching anymore, I have enough on my mind without it. _Please_ stop bugging me; I'm not going to change my mind, okay?" Harry clutched his bag and wound his way through to the Great Hall to grab a bite to eat before his first lesson.

* * *

To the classes' relief, Professor McPherson announced that they would be starting a new topic next week. Unfortunately, the good news was hooked to a little test to inspect their skills in Projecting. Each student received an object. Harry was given a feather, which was supposed to be writing upon command, not unlike a Dictaphone. On his second try, he was sure he had got it right, put a piece of parchment underneath the feather and started to say out loud, "Projection means to magically give objects the skill to perform tasks on their own."

The feather furiously darted across the parchment. Harry stopped speaking and when it came to a halt, he picked up the parchment and read, "Pprdjecten meens t madgically giv ubjecs the skill t perrvorm on theyr ouwn."

Harry sighed. He struggle three more times until he finally managed to accomplish the task to his satisfaction. There were still minor mistakes, but the sentence was readable. Then he took the time to check upon his classmates. Hermione's broom was happily sweeping the room. In front of Malfoy was a kettle boiling tea while Neville's knitting needles were knitting a brown, but ugly, scarf.

* * *

Afterwards, Harry walked down the stairs to his next lesson, Potions, when he noticed a crowd in front of the notice board. Simon was just emerging from their midst.

"Hi, what's up over there?" Harry asked him.

"Oh, nothing major. They just announced the next Hogsmeade weekend. Last weekend of the month."

"Oh, good. I'm running out of parchment and need to stock up on ink, as well."

"Do you think the girls will go? We could go together," Simon suggested.

"Sure, sounds good to me," Harry replied and then had to rush to be on time for Snape's class.

* * *

All in all, one could say that the days were passing without much trouble. Hermione had accepted the decision of not continuing the DA, though she still read all the books on defence she could get. Harry received many aggressive stares when walking down corridors. Simon had to tolerate a worse fate; people continuously threw verbal and magical insults at him. Both boys were smart enough not to get into any fights and silently endured this behaviour. Harry had mentioned the Hogsmeade weekend to Hermione and Ginny, but the girls never gave a definite answer. He suspected that Hermione still couldn't make up her mind and still maintained her crush on Simon. Yet, both could talk for hours about some arithmetic problem but as soon as Hermione's emotions run too high, Simon restored the distance that separated them by pulling Harry or Ginny into the discussion or abruptly changing the topic. Ginny was particularly on the edge these days. The coming weekend would be dominated by the Quidditch match, Phoenix versus Gryffindor. Even though she had nothing to fear from Whitby, the opposite Seeker, she still would have to face Ron. He had become more and more remote towards them; he was ignoring them completely now, even his sister.

* * *

The match was an adversity. Ginny flew as if it was her first time ever on a broom. Five minutes into the game, she failed to shun a Bludger. It didn't hit her, but crashed into her broom, causing severe damage to the aerodynamics. Afterwards, she had trouble keeping it on track. Gryffindor was still holding the lead by six goals, but with Ginny's broom out of control, the game was as good as lost. Still, Ginny and Whitby noticed the Snitch at the same time. Whitby took a straight course towards it, while Ginny struggled in a twisting path behind him. Naturally, she stood no chance, Whitby caught the Snitch and the stadium was lost in an explosion from the Phoenix students. Harry quickly ran down to the field, to get to Ginny and comfort her. He couldn't spot her anywhere. She wasn't in between the bobbing heads of the teams walking to the changing rooms, nor anywhere else. Finally, when the stadium had almost emptied completely, he saw her broom leaning against one of the goal posts. He checked the damage and could tell it was beyond repair. Still, the girl herself remained out of sight. He slowly traced his way back to the castle, carefully keeping his eyes open in case she was hiding out somewhere. He found her in a corner by the greenhouses, her faces hidden behind her shaking hands.

"Hi there," he said, cautiously stepping closer.

She jerked around, now he could see her tears. "I just knew I'd fail," she whispered. "They'll kick me out now."

Harry stepped even closer and put his arm around her. "It's okay. No one could have caught a melon with that broom."

"It's broken because I didn't pay attention. And I can't afford a new one and with the school brooms - I might as well resign." The tears running down her cheeks were huge.

"Ginny…I'm sure we'll find a good solution." Harry pulled her closer, feeling her body shake with sadness next to him.

"They'll throw me out," she repeated and burrowed her face in his shoulder. With every minute passed, her breathing calmed down and the tears subsided.

"Maybe you can take my broom for now," Harry suggested softly.

She looked up, her face inches from his. With her eyes puffy and muddy streaks on her cheeks, she still looked beautiful to him. "You don't really mean that."

"Why not?" he asked, determined to help her in this difficult situation.

"Because it's your treasure. You don't just give something this valuable to anyone," she sniffed.

Harry's eyes shyly glanced at her, with his head turned to the other side his lips moved, but hardly a sound left his lips, "You're not just anyone." He was blushing furiously; he looked at her again, giving her a faint, reassuring smile. Too nervous to repeat his thoughts aloud, he said, "You're cold, we should return to the castle."

Ginny seemed confused, looked directly at him. He was tempted to check what she was feeling and avoided her eyes. Then, looked at her anyway. For the briefest of moments, he thought to see himself embracing her.

_You're such a thickhead_, he thought, but Ginny was already straightening up.

"You're right," she was saying and started to walk towards the oak doors. He quickly followed and silently they walked side by side. She was about to push the doors open, when he stopped her.

"Ginny," Harry said and without thinking any further, he leaned forward and brushed her left cheek in the slightest of kisses.

Ginny's cheeks burst into a sea of red flames as she inclined her head.

_Oh my, what did I just do?_ Harry willed the earth to open beneath and swallow him. Ginny lifted her head again; Harry gave her an embarrassed smile then quickly opened the doors to avoid her possible negative reaction. Inside, they were no longer alone. Here and there, groups of students were chatting about the match.

"I really should go and change," Ginny whispered. "I'll see you later." Then she hurried up the stairs.

"Later?" Harry called after her. Ginny turned at the head of the stairs, presented him with a happy smile then dashed off to her Common Room.

But later never came. Harry didn't see Ginny at all that weekend, but his thoughts were with her at all times.

* * *

Muggle Studies offered a welcome, relaxing alternative to the confusion in his mind and heart. So far, they had inspected, discussed and worked on and with several kitchen appliances. All were magically modified, so they'd work without electricity. For Harry, this had proved to be a fun fact. Since he already knew how what was used, he usually was asked to sit back and observe his fellow Slytherins. Watching their attempts to find out what, for example, a mixer was used for was more entertaining than any comedy show he had ever watched over Dudley's shoulder.

Today, Professor Canvass had brought new appliances to class, which were eyed suspiciously by the Slytherins.

"Good Morning," the teacher greeted the class. "Today will be dedicated to a new motto. All these things are used regularly in Muggle-households, even though not all Muggles like them. You have half an hour to try them out on your own and detect what these things are used for. Then, we will discuss them together." She looked at Harry. "I'd like you to keep your knowledge to yourself for now and let the others experiment."

Harry watched the students approach the 'things', a slight smile already curving his lips.

"Be careful, some of these can be dangerous if misused," their teacher added as an afterthought.

Blaise went straight for a bucket of clothes-pegs. First, she only looked at it, then slowly, extended her hand and carefully lifted a peg. She examined it from all angles, then let it snap her index-finger. She jumped back, but seemed to have an idea what to do with them: she started to decorate her robe with the colourful items.

Across the room, Malfoy and Pansy were studying a much bigger item.

"Looks a bit like one of these washer-thingys. What was it?" Malfoy questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Dishwasher. But this one has a window!" Pansy explained.

"Maybe it's some kind of weird cage?" Malfoy suggested and peeked inside the washing machine through the window of the door. He started to push various buttons and suddenly the door leapt open and hit him on the forehead. He jerked backwards, swearing loudly. With pale faces, the two students waited from a distance to see what else would happen.

An agonized yell forced Harry's attention to Dora. Her face was torn in pain. Next to her, an iron was toppled up side down on the floor. Professor Canvass hurried to her, but the injury was only minor. Dora turned to the ironing board. She unfolded it, but was left in doubt as to what it was good for.

"Ey, Draco, it has a wheel inside," Pansy exclaimed. Her hand was hidden inside the washing machine and she was turning it round and round.

Suddenly, a nasty smell circled into Harry's nostrils. He looked around and spotted Crabbe and Goyle in a back corner of the room. They were sitting in front of a dryer, which actually seemed to be drying something. When the sound announced that it was done, Goyle opened the door. Inside, he revealed an incredible mess. Apparently, they had decided that the dryer had to be some sort of oven and tried to warm up some muffins, they had sneaked from breakfast.

Professor Canvass called for their attention. Before she could ask for the student's musings considering the objects they had just examined, she was interrupted by a heavy moan. Crabbe was crouching above a bucket. He half lifted his head and announced, "this stuff is amazing. It solves any stomach ache in no time." He retched once more and his head disappeared back into the bucket. Professor Canvass cleared her throat and explained that Muggles usually use the white powder to clean their clothes, then moved on to the other appliances.

* * *

The next weekend came, and Harry still hadn't talked to Ginny, or even seen her up close. During his Occlumency lesson on Friday evening, Simon was overwhelmed by the emotional chaos that radiated from Harry. He explained that positive feelings could allow entrance to someone's mind just as easily as negative. Harry was still having trouble to control fear and anger, so he really should sort his love and happiness out soon.

After this, the two boys agreed to visit Hogsmeade without the girls. Harry sent Hedwig with a quick note to Hermione, then spent another sleepless night in the dungeons.

* * *

"So, what are you going to do about Ginny?" Simon inquired.

"Dunno." Harry carefully examined the dust gathering on the tip of his shoes while walking. "If I could just work up the courage to talk to her."

"You're just afraid of making a fool of yourself," Simon stated, once again knowing Harry's thoughts better than he did himself.

Harry blew a string of hair out of his face. "I just don't know what to say, instead I only blush in a way that would make Ron jealous and get him sniggering."

"That's just the way it is. I thought you wanted to write her a letter?"

"Right. And what exactly do you propose I write?" Harry asked sarcastically raising his eyebrows, while recalling his disastrous try during his last lunch break.

They had left the last houses of Hogsmeade behind them; Harry could make out the distant shape of the Shrieking Shack looming between several large trees ahead of them.

"Let's see," Simon said in a mocking way, putting his index finger atop his nose and tipping his head to the side as if he was mulling over a difficult question. "You could write about the truth. What you really feel, your confusion."

"What?"

"You heard me. You really like her, but you're not sure it's love. But you do know that she's always loved you. That you're confused and don't want to hurt her."

Harry sat by a nearby tree, pulled out parchment and the pen the Dursleys had given him and started to write. "Dear Ginny." He crossed it out immediately afterwards, and wrote 'Hello, Ginny' instead. Then, he looked up at Simon, his eyes wide with expectation.

"You don't actually expect me to dictate you a letter?" Simon's lips curved in a smile. "It's okay to write 'Dear, Ginny'. It sounds better and you should also apologize for being such a twit last week, being too scared to meet up with her."

"You're kidding me." Harry furrowed his eyebrows, trying to determine if Simon was being serious or pulling his leg.

"No. This is just being honest. How else is she supposed to understand your weird behaviour?"

Harry turned his eyes back to the parchment and gnawed at the end of the pen. Finally, he made up his mind and begun to phrase Simon's suggestion into his own words. Before he could finish, however, a scream echoed through the trees. Harry jumped up, looked around wildly and automatically pulled his wand from beneath his robes. They weren't alone. A menacing cold spread around them. Another scream, this time apparently from a woman, followed the first. Simon and Harry looked at each other, then, simultaneously, sprinted into the direction of the eerie cry. The further they ran, the colder the air became. A well-known feeling flooded Harry's veins. They reached the Shrieking Shack totally out of breath. The muddy ground made it harder for them to move forward and Simon overtook Harry and headed across the yard into the dark, thick trees behind it. The emptiness Harry felt was overwhelming.

"Simon, wait!" Not knowing, only dreading, what he would find behind those trees, Harry warned Simon to go further and once again took the lead. Determined, the two boys fought their way through the branches.

* * *

"Harry." A faint whisper prevented Harry from storming onto the narrow path. He turned to his left and spotted Luna cowering underneath a bush. She was trembling all over her body.

"You have to help Justin. He's…" She couldn't continue and only pointed a weak arm into the undergrowth in front of her.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped out of the scrub onto a clearing. His senses hadn't betrayed him. Only a few steps to his left, a Dementor was hovering above a small bulge on the path. The ominous rattling, the dark creature was producing, turned into a sound of terror and Harry's heart stopped for a few beats, as he realized what it was doing. The lump beneath it was a human being. Justin's trembling body appeared to be stiff from fear; his eyes were fixed upon the black opening of the hood. The Dementor was in the process of lowering its head. Harry was unable to move. He saw a cemetery, a shape rising from a cauldron in front of his inner eye. He shuddered. He had to think of something good, something happy. But it wasn't enough. The Patronus Charm was merely a silver mist floating shortly in front of him before it evaporated into thin air.

Just one happy thought. That's all he wanted. One joyful moment. But with every inch the Dementor got closer to Justin's face, the panic in Harry increased. Frantically, he sought for a recent happy event. Just in that moment Justin's body jerked slightly upwards, as if being sucked by something. His head was hidden completely underneath the Dementor's hood. It had connected with his mouth and a faint golden light seemed to be flowing from Justin into the Dementor.

_Harry, do something! _Simon's voice penetrated his mind. _Think about Ginny! _

'Ginny!' Harry thought of how they had embraced. He felt the warmth and happiness spread through his body, chasing the numbness out.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

But it was too late. The weak light had vanished inside the Dementor and it was slowly moving upwards. The silvery stag drove it away, with Justin's soul lost in the depths of its darkness.

* * *

Harry burst forward to kneel beside Justin.

"Justin!" He called the boy by his name, but the eyes stayed closed. "Please let him just be unconscious," he whispered.

Neville crawled towards them from another set of cavernous trees. "Is he…" He started but was unable to finish the sentence.

Luna and Simon approached the three too. "It's too late," the older student said solemnly.

"No! Justin!" Harry yelled and shook the body. "No, he can't be." His voice was desperate. Harry looked up at Simon, hoping for some kind of advanced, miraculous healing. But in Simon's eyes, Harry met only fear. He saw the outline of a small group of people…Death Eater…a small child, no older than two…in the hands of another person…the only one not clad in black, but in a blinding white…red eyes…but the vision was gone as fast as it had come - leaving only pale blue eyes. Harry shook his head slightly.

"The Dementor took his soul," Simon said quietly.

"No." Harry refused to believe what he knew was the bitter truth.

"Look into his eyes," Simon demanded.

Harry slowly and carefully pulled up Justin's right eyelid. An eye stared back at him. Empty. Blank. Not just numb or sad, but dead. Justin was gone. Nothing was left in his eyes that could have remotely suggested life. Harry covered the eyes with his shaky hands, closing them. Somewhere behind him, Luna was sobbing, her hands clutched in front of her mouth. Neville fell back against a tree stump. He stared at Justin's body, trying to understand. Harry's mind was empty. He tried to think of nothing at all, pushing the image of the Dementor above Justin, sucking his soul, as far back as he possibly could.

* * *

Minutes passed. Occasionally, Justin seemed to be gasping for air, like someone in panic. But he wasn't in panic. He couldn't be. He was no longer able to feel. He was just an empty shell, powerless.

Harry tore his eyes away from his classmate. "What now?" he mouthed.

"Help. We have to get help," Luna whispered. "Dumbledore, maybe."

Harry looked at her, but then the foreboding feeling returned. Next to him, Simon hastily got up. He walked to Neville, who was hugging his knees tightly in shock.

"Neville?" But Neville didn't seem to hear Simon's quiet voice. "Neville!" Simon called him again, this time louder. "The Dementor. I think it's coming back. We have to get out of here," Simon urged them, while pulling Neville to his feet.

Neville's eyes searched the empty clearing, but he willingly followed Simon. Luna hurried towards them and offered Neville her shoulder for support. Simon and Harry took Justin's body and dashed through the branches into the direction of the Shrieking Shack and Hogwarts, closely followed by Luna and Neville. Harry felt the numbness return to his veins. They had reached the yard and darted across the muddy pathway. Almost at the grounds, Harry saw the Dementor and gasped. There wasn't just the one - but several. Fear, panic and horror run through his body. He quickly looked at the others. He urged Justin into Simon's arms and tried to focus. He raised his wand, but again, the Patronus Charm wouldn't work. His brain seemed frozen. Again and again, he yelled the incantation, but no happy thought would cross his mind. The Dementors' only reaction was to wave the silver mist away in an annoyed fashion. They came closer and closer…

**_TBC_**

* * *

**Up next:** Story time in the dungoens with S. Snape.

* * *

A/N:  
The quote translates as follows:  
_These eyes have seen it  
But these eyes now close  
And the silence becomes unbearably loud. _


	14. A Rare Gift

**Summary:** Story-time in the dungeons with S.Snape.

_Thanks to Moonysgirl79 for polishing this chapter up._

* * *

**Warning: Mentioning of Dark Magic.**

_Looking back with damp eyes,  
My lips are trembling, overwhelmed.  
Too many words are streaming through the opening,  
Nothing can leave it; I have to remain silent._

(Lacrimosa)

* * *

"Into the Shack!" Harry ran towards it and yelled '_Alohomora'_ while still several steps away. But nothing happened. The door stayed shut. Shocked, he turned around. The Dementors were still approaching them. He saw Simon struggling with Justin's body in the mud. He rushed to help and dragged them towards the hut. Simon levelled his wand at the doorknob and used a strange incantation to force it open. They stumbled inside and hunched under a table. Simon used a second charm to seal all windows and doors.

"Now we can only pray for a miracle," he exhaled the words.

"We're out of our minds," Neville voiced his fears. "We're fleeing from one bad thing to another. Now, we're stuck in a haunted house. No matter what, we're done for."

"It was never haunted in here," Harry said. "That was just a cover story." Since Simon had sealed the room, he had become a lot calmer. "Let's go."

"Where?" Luna asked, her hands rose in despair. "We can't get out of here!"

"There's a secret passage, leading from here to Hogwarts," Harry explained. The others looked at him, first unbelieving and then their eyes filled with hope.

* * *

Neville helped to carry Justin on their way to the Shack's basement, while Luna supported Simon. The skinny student was clearly shaken and exhausted. They walked through the narrow passage that seemed to go on and on, but the further away they got from the Dementors, the better they felt. At some point, they switched positions and Simon and Luna took over the burden of carrying Justin. He let himself be handed around like an empty container. Harry wondered what it would be like, not being able to feel, to only breath and just be, with no hope of recovery. What would Dumbledore do once they arrived at Hogwarts?

The ground level started to rise and he knew they were about to reach the Whomping Willow. Harry gestured to the others that they should wait and crawled out of the small opening. He pushed the knot to stop the branches from injuring them and waved Neville to follow him out. Together, they pulled Justin's body through the hole, and then Luna and Simon followed. Together, they dragged Justin as fast as they could away from the tree, before the branches set off again.

* * *

If Harry had ever been glad to see Snape, this was the moment. When the muddy, trembling group arrived at the steps leading up to huge oak front doors, it was the Potions Master who was just in the process of closing it. He stopped in the middle of the movement, pivoted on is heels and let his eyes pass from a sobbing Luna to a hunched Neville and Harry, with the lifeless Justin between them and finally to a shuddering Simon. In seconds he had taken over the charge, which the students were all too happy to give away. Snape conjured a stretcher for Justin and thus took the heavy burden from their shoulders. Neville and Harry almost fell onto the castle's front steps.

"Simon, find Dumbledore. I will take them to the Hospital Wing," Snape instructed grimly.

They went inside and Simon immediately sprinted up the steps to the Headmaster's office. Neville, Harry and Luna quietly followed behind Snape's swirling robes to the third floor. Madam Pomfrey hurried to them the instant they passed the door.

"What in Merlin's beard happened?" She lightly touched Justin's hand and forehead, but received no reaction.

"A Dementor's kiss," Snape replied briskly.

Madam Pomfrey stared at him with frightened eyes for a moment. She helped Snape put Justin to rest on a bed; his face was still so pale and then turned to look after the others. Luna couldn't calm herself and kept sobbing, though they were no more tears left for her to cry. Neville just stood in the doorway and stared at Justin. Harry turned to look out the window, away from this mess. Why hadn't he been able to help? Why hadn't the happy thoughts come? It had been such a close call and almost all of them could have been a victim and might now have been lying there like Justin…

"Come here." Madam Pomfrey was handing out big chunks of chocolate. Snape had left the room to inform the other teachers and make sure the rest of the Hogwarts students, who were still enjoying their Hogsmeade trip, would return safely to the grounds. The first bite already made Harry feel better. The cold left his body, but the idea that it was his fault and he could have prevented this wouldn't leave his thoughts.

* * *

The door opened again and Harry knew instinctively that Simon and Dumbledore had arrived.  
Dumbledore went straight to Madam Pomfrey who was tugging Justin under more blankets and exchange a few whispered words with her. Harry closed his eyes briefly before turning back to the room. Simon was seated on a bed, his back leaning against the wall. His face, too, was unnaturally pale, his eyes shut tightly.

"Where did you encounter the Dementor?" Dumbledore inquired.

"N-Near the Sh-Shrieking Shack." Neville's lips were trembling while he spoke.

"There was more than one - maybe five," Simon added, his eyes still closed.

"It was horrible," Luna said, her body still shaking. "The Dementor went straight for us, Justin panicked. We all did. And then this thing…" She couldn't go on.

"He didn't stand a chance," Neville finished for her and put his arm around the girl.

"I didn't manage to fend it off, "Harry whispered and his eyes were drawn to Justin.

Madam Pomfrey pressed more chocolate onto their hands before drawing curtains around Justin's bed and sparing them the ghastly sight. Harry felt stuffed and wasn't sure he liked more chocolate, but the chewing had a distracting effect.

"The Patronus is no easy charm. Performing if successfully can depend on your current situation. Don't blame yourself Harry. You've gone through a rough time lately, so…" He was interrupted by a new person joining them. "Ah, Felicitas. The other students have returned to the castle, then?" Dumbledore addressed Professor McPherson.

The Head of Phoenix looked as pasty as Simon and could only nod her confirmation. She walked past them to Madam Pomfrey, who accompanied her behind the drawn curtains. They could her gasp.

"I have to inform the school. I wish for you to spend the night here," Dumbledore said and left the four traumatized students to themselves.

* * *

"Is there hope?" They heard McPherson ask from behind the curtains.

"Once a Dementor has sucked the soul out, no. There are reports of people who regained the ability to perform vegetative tasks such as eating again, or even walking, but those are rare and only occur when the kiss was interrupted. But in Mr. Finch-Fechtley's case…I'm afraid he won't recover," the patron explained.

"For heaven's sake. Just what am I supposed to tell his parents?" McPherson cried.

Neville, Luna, Simon and Harry retired silently to the furthest corner to avoid the voices coming from Justin's bed. They couldn't bear staying in the room, but Dumbledore hadn't given them a choice. No matter how tired they were, they were too scared to fall asleep.

"I'm sorry." Harry lifted his eyes and saw Neville was speaking to him. "We weren't fair towards you. Or you," he added turning to Simon. "If we hadn't acted this stupidly, maybe…I mean without your help, Luna and me could have…"

Simon nodded and raised a hand to show his understanding. "We were all very lucky."

"No, really. We gave Harry a hard time. It's our fault," Luna interrupted.

"Honestly. Harry had other things on his mind than just the DA. Blocking someone's magical skills takes more than your accusations."

"Don't you have anything better to do than deciding who is to blame?" Harry said, annoyed.

"I'm just trying to say that no one is to blame. Not Luna, not Neville, not you. Dumbledore said as much just minutes ago. Or if you want to blame someone, blame Ron, Hermione, Ginny, me and the entire DA. You've experienced so many adversities and negative memories lately, the tiny bit of happiness stood no chance once the Dementor showed up," Simon continued. "Just don't make the mistake of burying yourself in self-pity."

* * *

Time passed until the Nurse and Professor McPherson emerged from behind the white curtains. The Head of Phoenix glanced at them quickly before she left to comfort her students and contact the parents.

"You should change into her pyjamas and try to get some sleep. You all look exhausted," Pomfrey told them and went to the shelves to hastily rummage through them. She seemed to be a bit confused, she was used to many magical injuries, but something like this was surely new territory for her as well. With a flick of her wand more curtains and four sets of clean clothes appeared. They changed and went to their respective beds. Before Harry hopped underneath the blanket, he pulled his curtains aside to address Simon.

"Why did you say it was your fault, too? Without you, I'd have been lost a long time ago," he whispered.

"Well, I thought of the Occlumency lessons. I have to repeatedly explain your weaknesses and strengths to you. You've made progress, but it's not yet enough."

"And why Ginny, Hermione and Ron?"

"Ginny drives you nuts because you're in love with her and too shy to say a word. You care for Hermione, who isn't in her best shape either. And Ron…well, you know that best yourself, don't you?"

Harry sighed and fell back onto the soft pillow.

* * *

For a long time, Harry just lay there, staring holes into the air. He had emptied his mind a few times already. The blankness calmed him. Slowly, the light outside faded and Madam Pomfrey returned with bowls of warm soup. After dinner, she extinguished the lights. Harry tossed and turned but still couldn't find sleep. He saw the shapes of the others, all breathing steadily. Finally around midnight, sleep overcame him.

_Dementors were closing in. Harry's Patronus was a mere silver mist. The door to the Shack was barricaded. No one could get in. Frightened he rattled the door. Harry was forced to watch the Dementors coming closer and snatching one after the other. Grabbing them by their throats and forcing their mouths open. Luna, Neville, Simon…all were kissed. Then the Dementors turned to Harry. He fought desperately, but darkness surrounded him and pressed the air from his lungs…_

"Harry! Harry!" A familiar voice snaked its way through his sleepiness.

"No!" Harry screamed, tears were running down his cheeks. "You won't get me. No!" He fought against the hands trying to pin him to the bed.

"Wake up. Harry!"

Harry stopped abruptly. Those weren't Dementor's claws but human hands. He recognized the blurry image of Simon standing above him.

"Calm down. It's a nightmare," Simon said quietly. "It's over. They're gone, okay?"

Harry sat up, still crying. He couldn't fight the tears and had the feeling it was time he let his emotions flow.

"Madam Pomfrey went to fetch some Dreamless Sleep Potion," Simon said in a soothing voice. "Here, breathe in. You're safe now."

Harry wiped the tears away. His mind focussed again. He saw the hospital walls, the flame of a candle nearby and noticed the sounds from Madam Pomfrey pouring a liquid.

"I just feel…like it was my fault. Like I failed," Harry said with a tremble.

"Do I have to repeat myself? It's not!" Simon exclaimed.

"Are you feeling better, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked and pushed a cup into his hands. "Drink this up."

Harry had some trouble moving the cup to his lips, his hands were shaking so bad. The Nurse nodded encouragingly and then left them alone. Harry took another sip from the potion. His eyes were aching from all the crying and exhaustion.

"Simon?" Harry asked. "What did you see when the Dementors attacked us?"

Simon huffed. "You saw it, too, didn't you? A dead woman in a circle, You-Know-Who, my parents…I have no idea what it was about. It must have been before I was given to Severus. I guess I innocently walked into a Death Eater meeting. You saw Him holding me. I can't say what happened then. I only remember green light and that a man died," he recounted.

"I can see Voldemort, how he transforms back into his human form," Harry said thoughtfully and looked over to the other boy. Simon was staring straight ahead.

"Simon? Are you okay?" Harry was having trouble speaking. The potion was taking effect and fatigue enveloped him. He could no longer keep his eyes open and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Harry woke up late the next afternoon. He could hear the distant sobs of a woman. Confused, he searched for his glasses and put them on. He sat up in his bed and immediately saw the source of the noises. With the image of half-drawn curtains and a couple standing closely together holding each other, yesterday's events came flowing back. Justin's parents, Muggles, were hunched above their son, trying to understand. When Madam Pomfrey noticed Harry, she hurried to him.

"Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?"

Harry nodded and looked around for the others.

"They left a few hours ago. If you're feeling up to it, you may leave as well. I have to tend to the boy's poor parents," she said hastily.

Harry dressed and walked to the door. Before he left, his gazed found the parents once more. He felt sorry for them. Thoughtfully, he wandered down the halls. Near the Entrance Hall, he noticed Hermione and Ginny, apparently waiting for him. He wasn't sure he could bear company just now, but didn't have a choice. They were blocking the way to the dungeons, apparently determined not to let him slip away again. When Ginny spotted him, she ran to him and embraced him in a warm hug. Thankfully, Harry returned it and clung to her.

"We were so worried. We've been waiting for hours," Ginny said.

Hermione was a bit more distant, not knowing how to behave around them, but happy that he hadn't suffered injuries nonetheless.

"How are you?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "I watched Justin's soul being sucked out."

"I know. Sorry." She looked at him with sad eyes.

"Do you know how Luna, Neville and Simon are?"

"No. We only met Simon briefly. He didn't say a lot. I think he want down to your common room," Hermione said.

"Yesterday was really frightening. We were in the Three Broomsticks when Snape came in and told us all to return to Hogwarts right away. He didn't eve say why, just instructed us to return to the Great Hall and stick together," Ginny told him. "Then Dumbledore came and explained the situation, but he never said how you were. He looked exhausted."

Harry could only nod. He didn't care, he only wanted to see the others and make sure they really were doing fine.

"Please, excuse me. I think I have to get some more rest," he said briskly and quickly vanished behind the door to the dungeons.

* * *

"Severus, please. I need to know."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Simon's anxious voiced sounded from Snape's office door, which was slightly ajar. Harry crept closer.

"Calm down, Simon," the Potions Master replied, a bit of resignation swinging in his voice. "Simon, I doubt…" He sighed. "Alright. I suppose you won't rest until you find out, so I might as well tell you. Did you ever come across a ritual called '_Cleptorus'_?" A brief moment of silence followed, in which Harry held his breath. Snape raised his voice again.

"The Cleptorus ritual is very difficult to perform and belongs to the darkest forms of Magic. It is used to project a wizard's unique skill onto another wizard, killing him in the process. It is impossible for a single wizard to successfully complete it, so when the Dark Lord attempted to gain more supremacy, he needed four powerful wizards gathered around him to speak the incantation." Snape stopped and Harry could hear the soft scratching of a chair on the stony floor.

"Your parents were involved, Regulus Black and me." Simon exhaled loudly enough for Harry to hear. Gripped by this information, Harry tiptoed even closer to the door.

"It was my task to prepare the potion. Then, everyone gathered in a circle around the Dark Lord and his victim, who was bound and still alive. They tore his beating heart out, which concealed the skill the Dark Lord was interested in." Snape let the words sink in, before he continued, "Why your parents had taken you with them, I can not say."

"Who was the woman inside the circle?" Simon whispered.

"Mildred Poweread, she was on Dumbledore's side. The ritual was about to be finished, when you tripped into the circle. You seriously destroyed the Dark Lord's plans. The skill was not projected onto him, but instead onto you."

Again, silence followed this revelation. Finally, Simon whispered, "What?"

"Mildred was an extraordinarily skilled Legilimens, in a way that occurs only every hundred years or so. Your abilities are now much more advanced than the Dark Lords or mine," Snape elaborated. Simon seemed to need time to digest this; it took him minutes until he asked his next question.

"What happened then? I mean, he must have been fuming."

"Certainly. He was outraged, but…"

Suddenly, steps echoed through the corridor and Harry quickly pulled away from the door and pretended to be walking towards the common room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy and his cronies turning around the corner. Malfoy made a move as if to hex Harry, but Snape's audible voice prevented an attack.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the evening in his dorm. He was tired and plagued by his own minds accusations. Still, the talk he had overheard repeatedly mocked his thoughts. He was curious to find out about Snape's last answer, but too embarrassed of his eavesdropping to confront Simon. No matter his musings, Simon didn't show up, so Harry was left to ponder what had happened after young Simon had crossed Voldemort's intentions.

* * *

The castle was covered beneath a blanket of melancholy. Justin's parents had come and taken their son home, against Dumbledore's advice to take him to St. Mungos. They were determined to find closure and exclude all magic from their lives. The same magic that had once inspired Justin and now had brought so much sorrow to their family. Harry preferred to come to terms with what he witnessed that fateful night on his own and ignored his friend's attempts to lend a supporting shoulder. Days passed and slowly the usual hustle and bustle was restored to the castle.

* * *

Harry, however, continued to avoid any kind of social contact. He walked around with averted eyes, entered classrooms at the last second and left again dead on the bell. At night, his brain was still occupied with reliving the scary scenes he had been unable to prevent. During the days, his guilt-ridden conscious wouldn't let him concentrate on his schoolwork.

"Harry! How much longer do you intend to avoid talking about it?" Ginny had appeared out of nowhere and was now blocking his way.

"Ginny, please."

"You've been silent for ages. Not talking to anyone, including Simon!" Her face was flushed in frustration. "But if that's what you want, to loose all your friends, fine by me," she burst out and turned to storm away again.

Harry hastily stretched one hand out and held her by her robes. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired."

"I know. But it won't get better when you're hiding in that hole of yours."

Harry nodded. She was right. There were two things he wanted to talk to her about, one being Justin, the other his feelings for her, but he couldn't get the words to leave his mouth.

"Oh, Harry. About your broom — I don't need to borrow it any more. In March Gryffindor will be playing Slytherin and since we can hardly play on one broom together, I found a new solution. I can have Ron's."

Harry smiled. He really wouldn't mind sitting on one broom with her, but that was another story. He would also give her his broom during this particular game, even if that meant he had to fly on a school broom or run around below.

"You and Ron are talking again, then?" The negative feelings were slowly leaving his stomach and were replaced by a certain weakness in his knees.

"No, not really. The thing with Justin really shook him; they were hanging out a lot before. No, mum arranged it. You know how tough she can be."

A smile forced Harry's lips to curve. "How is he?"

"Well, I heard that he and Neville had a fight, once again about Simon."

"How come? I thought they shared their opinion on Simon?"

"Apparently not any more. Neville was very impressed how you both jumped to their help. I think he's still a bit suspicious, but not as bad as before."

The two hindered lovebirds strolled down the corridors, not taking notice of where they were headed. Both didn't care, they enjoyed each other's company too much.

"Ron still hates Simon, though who knows why."

"Just think of the Yule Ball," Ginny reminded him.

"Ah no. It started much earlier. Ron broke up with Hermione because of Simon first, _then _got mad because she developed an interest in Simon."

Ginny stopped walking. "I think he's very lonely. He starts a fight with everyone, Justin's gone, Neville had a change of heart and now he's the last one who rejects the idea of Simon being a good guy."

"Na, come on. You were at the last DA meeting, weren't you?"

"Yes, but most of them now regret what a scene they caused. Everyone knows that we almost managed to produce a real Patronus. Justin belonged to the advanced students, if he would have had one or two more lessons, he might have been able to fend the Dementor off."

Harry paled. He hadn't given this option any thought so far, but now he realized that it really was his fault. He had denied the others the chance to learn from him how to defend themselves. He shuddered.

Ginny's words stabbed through the mist in his mind. "Hermione's been asked several times already if there's really no way we can't continue," she was saying.

"No. Not with me." Harry shook his head furiously. "They don't accept me and accuse me of fraternizing with the enemy, who just happens to be my best friend."

"But they changed their minds!" Ginny opened her hands in despair. "Harry, at least think about it. This can't happen again. It just can't."

Why did he react in such a harsh way? He could clearly see the fear of another attack in her eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

"Okay. I'll think about it."

Then he bid her Good Bye. Instead of telling her how he felt about her, he had yelled at her for no reason. Great.

* * *

At a snail's pace, Harry returned to the common room. He noticed Simon and Frederic involved with some homework assignment near the fire. Harry resisted the temptation to walk over and ask for advice with Ginny or to give Simon the chance to find out what he had overheard. Instead he retreated once more to his dorm, sat cross-legged on his bed, took out parchment and quill and began to brood over a letter to Ginny. But he didn't get far. Malfoy banged the door open and eying the parchment he informed Harry, "Snape's in the common room, we're all supposed to show up. Now."

Quickly, Harry stashed the few written words underneath his pillow. He didn't even want to imagine the humiliation if Malfoy found out about his crush.

* * *

What Snape had to say was a rather nasty tale. Owen Caulwell, a third-year Ravenclaw, had been at the receiving end of the _Corpus Inflamare_ curse. Naturally, all Slytherins were suspects. Caulwell's testimony of having seen a Slytherin uniform before he became unconscious was evidence enough for most of who had performed the curse. Snape threateningly stared into a few eyes, but he wasn't able to force the responsible person to step forward. Duels between Slytherins and other houses were certainly not a new one, but the fire-curse, which could be fatal, was definitely in a new league. Harry exchanged a glance with Simon, who was leaning against an opposite wall. Close by, Nott, Malfoy and his gang were hiding their gloating faces. Harry could hear Malfoy's whisper, "Any idea who did it?" But he only received a general shrug of shoulders all around.

"We are no longer dealing with schoolboy's pranks. This is a serious matter. The culprit will be caught and shall expect severe punishment. Be assured that scrubbing cauldrons won't be it." Snape threw a menacing look around the quiet room, causing the students in the first row to shift a bit further back, and then he strode out again, slamming the door shut behind him.

Harry thought it best to get away from the heated, and partly celebrating, debates all around him. Seconds later, he found himself back on his bed, the letter to Ginny in his hands. And again he was interrupted by the opening of the door. Hastily, he hid it under his blanket, but sighed in relief when he recognized Simon.

"Hi," he said whilst ironing the parchment with his hands.

"Just wondering when we'd start Occlumency again," Simon said.

"Don't care," Harry answered, his attention focused on the words before him.

"Tomorrow night?" Simon suggested.

Harry nodded briskly, his tongue squeezed between his teeth in concentration.

"You're writing a letter to Ginny?"

Harry nodded again. Simon came closer and risked a glance upon the parchment.

"Great, finally. This sounds good," he commented. "But if write another word of weak knees, it's gonna sound boring."

"How…" Harry exhaled when he saw Simon's raised eyebrows.

"Leave it as it is. Simple but straight to the point," Simon advised.

"Do you really think so?" Harry was still torn by doubts. He reread the lines and really, it didn't sound too bad after all. Especially considering that it was his first love letter. He signed it and excused himself to sprint to the Owlery. Hedwig danced on the poles excitedly when she realized Harry had a task for her. He stroke her feathers tenderly and watched her take off with his letter, which contained his true feelings for Ginny.

**TBC**

* * *

**Next:** Knowing too much and having too many enemies is never healthy.


	15. Corpus Inflamare

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It's nice knowing what goes on in your mind when you're reading this :-) **

* * *

**Summary**: Knowing too much and having too many enemies is never healthy.

**WARNING**: Some disturbing images due to use of Dark Magic.

Once again, thanks to Moonysgirl79 and Sophie for betaing this.

* * *

_Come a little bit closer  
And hear what I've got to say  
Burning words of anger  
Of hate and desperation._

(Lacrimosa)

* * *

Harry spent another night tossing and turning in his bed. Anxious about how Ginny would react to his letter, he even skipped breakfast the next morning, afraid that he might possibly run into her in the Great Hall. The first lesson of the day passed without Harry noticing. He kept glancing at Hermione, trying to determine from her behaviour if she knew anything of the letter. Unsurprisingly, Hermione's attention was focused on Professor Snape's lecture about most potent potions. Harry was glad he was seated at the back of the class because his notes were mainly tiny little pictures of hearts and engravings of four certain initials. Snape would have a field day should he spot the parchment. 

Defence against the Dark Arts lifted his spirits a bit. Professor Flitwick asked them to produce a Patronus and, with no Dementors present, Harry's stag happily galloped around the room. Afterwards, he had no more reasons to stay away from the Great Hall or Ginny. His nerves were at breaking point anyway; he _had_ to find out what she thought of his letter, so he decided to look for her. He quickly found her near the Fat Lady, apparently just returning from her last class.

"Hi, Ginny," he said, surprised by his steady voice.

"Harry!" She whipped around, her cheeks colouring in a soft, cute pink. The amazingly interesting arrangement of the stone tiles caught both their attention. Embarrassed, they studied it for several moments until Harry worked up the courage to speak.

"Did you get a letter today?" From the corner of his eye, he could see her nod. Frustrated that she didn't speak and lost for words, Harry began to stutter nonsense.

"I…ehm…did you…ehm…the weather is nice." He could have slapped himself.

More moments of silence passed. "The letter was cute," Ginny finally admitted, barely audible. "I really liked it."

Harry stepped closer to her. He took her hand, and their eyes met for the first time. Harry caught a quick insight of her emotions. She had been very happy indeed about the letter, almost cried. He could see Hermione standing next to Ginny, looking serious.

"Ginny," he said earnestly, "What did Hermione say to you?"

Ginny look at him, astounded. "Well…ehm…I'm supposed to talk to you, but not about the letter. It's about Simon," she explained hesitantly.

Harry hadn't expected this. He eyed her suspiciously. "What about him?"

"Did you ever notice that they disappeared about the same time during the Yule ball?"

Harry nodded, but he actually only remembered the time he spent with Ginny, dancing.

"She thinks he did something to her then," Ginny continued carefully.

"Oh, great, not her _too_. Where is she?" Harry exclaimed angrily.

"I think she was on her way to the library. But, Harry…" Ginny tried to stop him from storming away, but he didn't care.

Won't this ever stop? People accusing Simon of all those silly things? Simon had just gained some respect among the students, and then someone else started a rumour. He saw her seated in her usual corner with stacks of books all around. Ron was with her. Harry only regarded him with a contemptuous glance. Ginny who had followed Harry, sat down beside Hermione.

"What's that I hear about you accusing Simon?" Harry didn't waste time beating around the bush.

"Calm down and have a seat," Hermione started, but Harry denied her this wish.

"Okay, well. The Yule Ball. Everything was so confusing. I have no clue what happened to me," Hermione said.

Harry nodded; that wasn't news to him.

"My memory is still a bit blurry, but I've been having this dream, and the more I think about it the less I think it's a dream after all," she continued.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I don't think Simon is as innocent as he seems. Harry," she said loudly before he managed to interrupt her, "in this dream, it's the Yule ball, but I'm in a room somewhere in Hogwarts. I see Simon. He's laughing and threatening me with his wand."

"Hermione, it's a dream."

"No! Harry, I don't know how to describe it best or where this dream originated or what exactly Simon is saying, but Harry, his eyes! And did you ever see him laugh before? Cold and diabolic! He…he wants to kill me, but is not allowed to. Then the kiss…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're only mad because he rejected you."

"No, Harry, the kiss was cold, ice-cold."

"You weren't yourself that night. But that's not a reason to turn Simon into a scapegoat. You were drunk."

"Hermione and drunk, that already doesn't sound right, don't you think?" Ron intervened.

"Of course you're siding with her, now. You hate him, even though you've never properly met him." Harry was quickly losing his temper.

"Oh, you have no idea! Every time I'm close to him, I have to think about gruesome things! I don't know how he does it, but he makes me believe he's a Death Eater!"

"Simon? A Death Eater? HA!" Harry was really angry now. "How come he hasn't killed me yet? Or even attempted it? No, instead he teaches me Occlumency to strengthen my defences!"

"Right. And how well are you doing, then? Is he a better teacher than Snape?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"Yes! I'm much more advanced now. We'll be starting with Legilimency soon," Harry triumphed.

"Oh, that reminds me. Have you ever heard of something called the Legilimens' Kiss?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Yes," Ron said with a side glance to Harry. "Why?"

"They're said to be really cold," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Hermione, cut it out already," Harry exhaled in despair. "You were in love with him. He rejected you. Your emotions are confused."

"The only one who's confused is you, Harry," Ron roared. He had jumped up and moved behind Hermione, putting one hand on her shoulder. "He's not the good mate he pretends to be! What does it take to make you see reason? Will you only believe us when he drops his mask and it's too late?"

"You're mad as hell!" Harry retorted heatedly. "It's you who's talking nonsense! Hermione used to like Simon. You infl…"

"I don't have to listen to this rubbish! Do as you like, but keep in mind that I warned you right from the beginning," Ron shouted before Harry could finish. He angrily slammed a book shut and almost ran from the library.

As soon as Ron was out of sight, Harry's anger decreased a bit. He looked at Ginny and Hermione for an explanation and excuse but only received silent stares in return. He wasn't sure if Ron really had managed to convince Hermione; she seemed to have a steady opinion on her 'dream'. He didn't want to take this further, since it wasn't the first warning he had heard. What if Simon really was a Death Eater? But then, _why_ should he be? He has done so many things giving evidence that he wasn't a supporter of the Dark side. No, it just didn't fit.

"I just can't come to a different conclusion other than to trust him. Why should he be playing a part?" Harry asked no one in particular.

"No idea," Hermione admitted. "He's so nice, but I'm just not so sure anymore. His laugh, his eyes, he…"

_Harry!_ Suddenly, Simon's agonized voice pierced his mind. _Help me!_ Simon yelled, the voice full of pain.

"Simon!" Harry exclaimed. Hermione and Ginny stared at him when he jumped up and pulled his wand from his pocket.

_Where are you_? He asked while running out of the library, Hermione and Ginny on his heels.

"Harry, what is it?" the girls had dropped their things upon seeing his scared face.

"Simon's in danger somewhere," he said and repeated in his mind, _Where are you?_

_Seventh floor, third corridor…_Simon dragged the words and suddenly felt silent.

Harry ran faster. _Left or right?_ But he didn't get an answer. Hastily, he climbed the steps, pushing other students aside. "We have to find him. He's hurt. He's somewhere up here!"

_Simon, why aren't you answering?_

When they reached the seventh floor, Harry turned into the right hand corridor, Hermione ran to the left and Ginny straight. But, Simon was nowhere to be found. Harry ran back to the stairs, hoping desperately that one of the girls had been successful. Hermione was already springing towards him but hadn't seen anything either. Just in that moment, they heard Ginny's sharp scream. They stormed in the direction it came from, but a crackling, bluish light stopped them. Ginny was standing only a few steps away at a corner, staring at something in front of her. Slowly, they moved closer. When they rounded the corner, they saw the body lying on the floor; blue-white flames were licking its form and had covered it almost completely.

"Simon!" Harry yelled.

_"Finite Incantatem!" _A bright, yellow gleam broke through the fatal blue flames. Hermione watched her charm as it dissolved the fire. It took only seconds before it was gone.

Simon was still lying on the floor, unmoving. His clothes were nearly all burned; only streaks of fabric were clinging to red flesh. Blistered, raw skin was exposed everywhere and the sharp smell of burned flesh hung in the air. His upper body, arms, hands and a major part of his face were wrecked and his eyes were closed. Harry took a step towards Simon but couldn't detect any sign of life.

"What are you doing? Go, run, get help!" he screeched at Ginny and Hermione. The girls woke from their petrified state and quickly hastened away to do as told. "Please, Simon," he whispered.

"Simon," Harry started a new attempt to wake the injured boy up. "Please, don't be dead." But nothing happened. He tried to feel a pulse, if just a weak one. The skin felt unnaturally hot, and a few blisters burst upon Harry's touch. Soon, his hands and sleeves were covered in blood, but Harry didn't notice. He finally found fragile a pulse and noticed a breath so feeble he'd almost missed it entirely. 'He needs help,' Harry thought, tears streaming down his cheeks. Desperately, he clutched his hands above Simon's heart, forcing it to keep beating. "Breath, Simon, keep breathing," he insisted. "Help will be here soon. Madam Pomfrey will fix you up again, you'll see. Just don't die."

Beneath his hands, Harry was aware of the fading heartbeat.

* * *

After what seemed to have been hours, Harry perceived the sounds of approaching footsteps. 

"Over here, hurry up," he yelled. "He won't last much longer!"

Professor McGonagall stepped around the corner and gasped when she saw the scene in front of her. Harry could tell by her expression that she had come upon them by accident.

"Mr. Potter, what…?" she asked and quickly bent down and automatically felt for Simon's pulse, just as Harry had done.

"He's alive, though barely," she declared. McGonagall drew her wand, directed it at Simon, who was still unconscious and murmured a few well-chosen words. Immediately, his breathing improved a bit. "Who is he?"

"Simon Lestrange," Harry replied.

"Help me carry him to the Hospital Wing," she instructed Harry, who nodded eager to finally give Simon some aid. McGonagall conjured a stretcher and together they heaved Simon's body on top. More blood poured onto Harry's robes. They heard a loud intake of breath and looked up. Ginny and Hermione were back, closely followed by Snape.

"Is he …dead?" Ginny asked.

"No, just unconscious," Harry answered.

Snape conjured a blanket to cover Simon's almost-naked body before the group scurried down to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey yelped when she saw Simon's mangled body. She dashed next door to retrieve bandages, creams and healing potions. Snape and McGonagall hauled him onto one of the beds.

"You three had better leave," Madam Pomfrey announced when she returned.

"I'll stay," Harry insisted.

"All right, but the girls really should leave," the school matron determined.

McGonagall summoned the curtains used to give patients privacy before following the girls outside to make sure they were all right. Snape went to notify Dumbledore of the incident.

"Mr. Potter, you can help me by soaking the bandages in this potion. We have to cover the entire skin with them," Madam Pomfrey suggested while dipping white bandages into a small cauldron, then cautiously wrapping them around Simon's left arm.

"Will he make it?" Harry had kneeled next to the cauldron and was now soaking the next bandage in the cooling liquid.

"If we're lucky, he won't even have too many scars or none at all, but it's going to take a while."

She carefully wrapped every bandage around Simon's left arm, then set about draping them over the other; all the while, he didn't react to the touches at all. Madam Pomfrey raised her wand and relieved the body of the remaining garments. "I'll need your help with the upper body," she said to Harry. He was instructed to move to the other side of the bed and cautiously lift Simon's upper body. The matron arranged more bandages around it. When he was back in a lying position, Madam Pomfrey used a smaller strap to cover Simon's right face

"How is he?" Snape had returned and had noiselessly stepped around the curtains.

"He'll survive; I'll get a strong painkiller potion in a moment, then we can wake him up," Madam Pomfrey declared.

"Who did this?" Snape asked Harry, somewhat more hostile than usual.

"I don't know, Sir. Ginny found him, but no one else was in that corridor when we arrived," Harry explained, afraid to be declared the culprit.

"No suspects?" Snape stared at him suspiciously, and Harry quickly dropped his gaze.

Harry thought of Ron and his mood when he had left them, but didn't believe his former best friend would do such a gruesome thing.

"No, sir," he said.

* * *

_Harry…thank you!_ Simons voice was in his head. _I didn't know if I still had the strength to reach you. _

_Who did it? _Harry asked back, dreading the answer.

_Ron! He came after me. Suddenly, he was there, and before I could sense his anger or draw my wand to defend myself, he had already cast the spell. _

Harry was too shocked to react right away. Ron? But why? Being mad was one thing, but attacking someone with a could-be-fatal curse was another and just didn't sound like Ron.

_I suspected him, but never thought…he actually…_Harry was lost for words.

_You were fighting about me again, weren't you? _Simon inquired.

_Yes,_ Harry admitted and remembered Hermione's accusations.

_What do you think about it? _Simon asked and even his inner voice sounded exhausted.

_Well, I'm not sure. But I don't believe it, _Harry thought.

_And you're right. I'm not a Death Eater. If just a few would share your opinion and didn't judge books by their covers, I could actually lead a quiet life, _Simon said.

_Does it still hurt much? _Harry asked to change the topic.

_The potion kills most of the pain, but I don't dare to move, not even to speak. The stinging would no doubt come back. _

They kept 'talking' until Madam Pomfrey returned after about an hour to give Simon a new dose of palliatives. And another hour later, she revisited the bed, carrying the cauldron containing the potion for the bandages; they had to be changed. Harry was surprised to see how many blisters had already vanished. The skin was still red, but not as crimson as before.

"It'll take two or three days until the skin will have recovered from the curses effects," she said and went to get Simon a bowl of soup. She helped Simon sit up, and since his heavily bandaged hands prevented him from eating himself, she fed him spoon by spoon. To save Simon the embarrassment, she sent Harry out to grab some dinner in the Great Hall.

"I'll be back after dinner," Harry promised.

Simon tried to form an encouraging smile, but agony let his body shudder. _See you later, then._

* * *

Lost in thoughts, Harry strolled down to the Great Hall, trying hard to figure out why Ron would have done such a horrible thing. Snape had already threatened the culprit who attempted to cast the fire-curse on Owen Caldwell with expulsion, but what would Ron, who had been even more successful, face? Surely Snape would show no mercy, especially since it was his own Godson who happened to be the victim. In the Great Hall, Harry slipped onto a seat, not daring to look over to the Phoenix table. He wasn't sure how he'd react should Ron be eating his dinner now, too. Harry didn't want to risk a fight and thus draw the attention to Ron's involvement. He took a solemn bite from a slice of bread. It tasted odd.

* * *

During the next days, Harry could mostly be found in the Hospital Wing. It was no extraordinary sight if he strolled out of a class, not really knowing what they had discussed that day. Simon was on his way to complete recovery. He was able to talk again, though it still seemed to cause him pain. Every time Snape came to look after Simon, Harry left. He was too scared he'd give Ron away. But he stayed close by, praying that Snape would not be storming out angrily, looking for Ron. Simon seemed to stick to his word. Harry had begged him not to tell on Ron, and this just proved to Harry that Simon couldn't be the Death Eater everyone accused him of being.

* * *

Harry had only seen Ron once since the attack. Ron had been sitting at his house table, staring at an untouched bowl of porridge. 'Yeah, you have every right to feel guilty,' Harry had thought. Ron then had looked up and gaped at Harry. Had he really just projected the thought into Ron's mind? Ron's eyes looked frightened. Ron had checked the teacher's table, where McGonagall and McPherson were talking, causing Harry to quickly look away. The blinding anger rising inside Harry would do no one any good at this moment. 

On the fourth day after the attack, the blisters on Simon's skin had disappeared completely. However, Simon still reported a slight burning feeling on it. His body was still very weak, too. He couldn't stand up for longer than a few minutes time. Harry once again sat with him, trying to distract his friend from the boring quiet of the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey brought a breakfast tray and announced that Simon might be able to leave in a few days - if he kept a slow pace. After that, Harry had to run to his first class of the morning, Charms.

* * *

When he entered the classroom, the lesson had already started. McPherson shot him a firm glance but continued her sentence. Harry slumped onto a chair and tried to focus. The Professor was lecturing them about Apparating - a difficult string of magic, which required a great deal of concentration. They had been studying geographic details for over a month now, details which were important if wanted to reappear at the intended location and not in the middle of the rain forest. 

"So," Professor McPherson as saying, "who can tell me the exact code if you want to apparate to Diagon Alley?"

Silence fell over the class. Harry's eyes searched the classroom no hands were up in the air.

Hold on a second, no hands? Not even Hermione's? Harry squinted and looked around the room again. He couldn't see Hermione anywhere. That was weird. He hadn't actually talked to her for days, only met her briefly after their classes together to tell her how Simon was improving. No matter her accusation, she till seemed to have feelings for him. But she didn't dare to visit him herself, fearing he might sense her feeble distrust and that there was a bit of truth in her dream. She also had no idea that Ron really was involved, though she had mentioned a light suspicion. After the lesson, Harry cornered Neville.

"Have you seen Hermione?"

"No, I haven't seen her since last night." Neville shrugged. "She's been doing overtime in the library, I bet she fell asleep on a pile of books — yet again."

* * *

During his next lesson, Muggle Studies, Harry had already shoved Hermione's lack of presence aside. Maybe she was just not feeling well, caught a cold or something, or, as Neville suggested, had spent the night on top of a pile of books and was now exhausted. Instead, Harry enjoyed the stand-up comedy Malfoy was putting on. He had tried to dry his hair with an ordinary Muggle hairdryer - an attempt with disastrous results. After the lesson, Ginny surprisingly stood in the opposite wall of the door, apparently waiting for Harry. 

"Hey, Ginny! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I just wanted to say 'hi', but I guess you're on your way to Simon, so…" she trailed off.

Harry smirked but hurried his steps to walk next to her.

"How is he?" Ginny asked.

"Quite well, actually. He might be allowed to leave soon," Harry replied.

"Owen was back in class today," she said.

"Oh, did they found out who did it?"

"Nah, I don't think Slytherins are brave enough to admit it," Ginny spat. "Was Simon able to see the offender?"

"Hmm…yes," Harry murmured. He couldn't tell her that her brother was capable of an attempted murder; this should better stay between Simon and Ron and him.

"Well? Who?" Ginny urged him

"I don't think I should tell you," Harry tried to beat about the bush.

"It was Ron, wasn't it?" Ginny grimaced. Harry sighed, but didn't answer.

"Harry! Yes or no?"

Why couldn't he just have told her that Simon hadn't recognized anyone? Why couldn't he have kept his stupid mouth shut?

"What if? What would you do? Have him expelled? Watch him serving a life long detention with Snape?"

Ginny shook her had sadly.

"See. It makes no difference. The less there are to know about it, the better. Simon promised not to say anything, either."

"It was Ron." Ginny sounded desperate and angry at the same time.

"Please don't tell Hermione. She seems to suspect something is up but also still seems to sit between the chairs," Harry pleaded.

"Hermione already believes Ron did it," Ginny stated glumly.

Harry sighed. He didn't think he should ask her now where Hermione was. He watched Ginny silently, pushing all his negative feelings to a far back corner of his mind. Should he hug her? She was standing close enough. Ginny sensed his eyes upon her and shyly looked up and down the corridor. Then she came closer and quickly brushed her lips against his cheek. She blushed, waiting for a response.

When none came, she said, "Ehm, well, I have…to…meet someone now."

Harry finally looked down at her, knowing he really had to act soon or she would slip away again. He smiled. "No, Ginny." He leaned down and kissed her softly on her lips. They tasted sweet and he wanted more. He pulled her even closer and stroked her hair. He could feel her hands on his back, caressing it. His knees were as weak as jelly. He couldn't focus, his thoughts were swirling in his mind, all he knew that he never wanted to let go of her again. Suddenly, there were strange thoughts in his mind.

_Ginny was sitting in her room at the Burrow — crying. Then she was in the Chamber of Secrets and Tom Riddle emerged from his diary — the last Quidditch match, her broom broken on the ground — Simon's body in front of her — flames everywhere…_

Terrified, Harry pushed Ginny aside. 'No, I can't do this,' he thought. Aloud he said, "I'm so sorry, but I can't. I have to see Simon. Now." He stumbled a few steps backwards. He turned around, not knowing if she had felt his mind invading hers. He heard steps hurrying after him.

"Harry! What's up?"

He slowed his pace but didn't know how to explain the situation best. "I'm really, really sorry. I have to talk to Simon in private about…something. But I can't tell you. You just have to trust me on this." He stopped and hugged Ginny tightly. "I'm in love with you," he whispered into her ear.

She tried to kiss him again, but Harry pulled away, only allowing a brief kiss on the cheek.

"What about if we have dinner together, okay?"

Ginny's disappointed, confused eyes bored through him. Harry would have to find a decent explanation by then. Finally, Ginny nodded her agreement and Harry dashed to the Hospital Wing.

Simon was upright in his bed, a Potions Book on his lap. He hadn't been reading it, but was instead talking to the person Harry wanted to see the least: Malfoy.

"Come on in, Harry," Simon ordered cheerily, and when he noticed Harry's gloomy expression, he added, "Draco was just leaving."

Malfoy sneered but got up from his chair. He shot Harry a reproachful look as he left.

"Simon! I _have_ to learn Occlumency," Harry almost shouted.

"Okay, what do you think we've been doing these past months?" Simon asked, an amused smile playing around his lips. "Well, well, well." He knew Harry's problem all to well. "You kissed her, am I right?"

"I have to know how to prevent that. I don't want to snoop around her thoughts every time I kiss her," Harry exclaimed, distraught.

Simon grinned knowingly and shut the book. "Have a seat then, it's good that you finally realized the extent of this skill and that there's no way around it. That should make our lessons a lot easier."

Just because Simon's body strength was still at a lower level, it didn't mean that his mind had suffered as much, too. They began a lesson that proved to be the hardest ever.

* * *

Harry was exhausted when he left the Hospital Wing. The exercise had drained his energy. Every time he had managed to defeat Simon's attempts, Simon had strengthened the challenge and succeeded in penetrating Harry's mind nonetheless. No matter what Harry tried, Simon always found a gap to slip into his thoughts. Harry started to understand what Snape had tried to explain ages ago. By now, Simon must know every tiny little detail about Harry and his life, but Harry didn't care. He had to master Occlumency. 

He had trouble focusing on Herbology. Further, it took him a few moments to realize that Hermione was missing another lesson. As was Ron. Both their places were empty. Their absence puzzled Harry even more, and the plant he was supposed to be working on suffered a great deal under his lack of concentration.

After class, he roamed the castle's corridors, trying to locate Hermione, or even Ron. He didn't feel like returning to the Hospital Wing, either; he was too worn out already. In the library, he met Ginny. He tried to keep his distance, even though she seemed to be disappointed about his reserved behaviour. He tried to ignore this and asked her about Ron and Hermione, but she, too, had not seen them for a while. Together, they went to find a Phoenix student and asked her to see if Ron or Hermione were in their common room or dormitories. But the fourth-year returned saying that neither of them were inside.

* * *

At dinnertime, Harry was really worried. He and Ginny had searched every possible place to find Hermione, but the girl seemed to have vanished. He was clueless as what to do next, when Ginny had an idea: the Marauder's Map. Of course, why hadn't they though of that before? Harry sprinted to his dorm and retrieved the map from the depths of his trunk. The self-apparating book plopped about, but he didn't take notice of it. He hurried back to Ginny, who was waiting in the Great Hall. After they had made sure no one was watching, Harry activated the map. Many black points were busily moving around. He searched the corridors, Ginny the grounds, but they couldn't spot Hermione's name. Just before Harry meant to close the map again, he stopped. There, there he read Hermione Granger. According to the map, she was currently in the Great Hall. They looked up, confused. There were many students filing in for dinner or already seated and tucking in, but no Hermione. Irritated, they got up and moved to the exact point the map showed. Still, there was no sight of her. They felt around, just in case she was under an invisibility cloak or similar, but again no result. Harry didn't trust the situation and checked the map. The dot 'Hermione Granger' was gone. 

"Could it be broken?" Ginny asked, not really believing it herself. "It looks a bit dented."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's working alright. Something's just wrong here." He had no idea what, but the hair at the back of his neck was standing upright.

"Okay. I'm going to McGonagall. And you'll ask around here. Someone has to have seen at least one of them," Ginny instructed and turned around to dash to the office of her Head of House.

Harry's inquiries were met with confusion. No one had seen or heard from Hermione or Ron.

* * *

During his lesson the next day, Harry's eyes kept swaying to the chairs Hermione and Ron usually occupied. He just couldn't take his mind off of their mysterious disappearances. People didn't just vanish from certain maps. By now, the entire school seemed to know that something must have happened. Even the teachers seemed to be nervous and distracted. After his last class, which luckily was around noon, Harry wandered to the common room and onto the dormitories to drop his things. Once again, he opened the Marauder's Map and checked it. Suddenly, he jumped up. Near Moaning Myrtle's he had seen a dot sporting Ron's name. He was about to run out of the room when he spotted something on the windowsill. Lying there in the sunlight, slightly covered by one of his jumpers Harry probably had cast there last night, were two wands. Hesitantly, he stepped closer to examine them. He knew that his wand was safely tucked in his pocket. He moved his clothes away and dropped them to the floor. Cautiously, he stretched his hand out to lift one of the wands. 

"Impossible," he whispered.

He had seen this wand in action a thousand times. Two letters were engraved at its handle: _H _and _G_. The wand he was holding belonged to Hermione Granger, and Harry was sure that the other wand would turn out to be Ron's.

TBC

* * *

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**Next**: Through the Looking Glass.


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